Catching Up
by InFabula
Summary: Set immediately after the end of Goblet of Fire, Sirius follows Dumbledore's instructions to lie low at Lupin's. Complete.
1. Chapter 1 Dogged Pursuit

CATCHING UP by InFabula

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

Chapter One DOGGED PURSUIT

It was mid-morning before he reached Remus's house. He padded down the dirty cobbled street, too intent on finding his friend to bother about what the passers-by might think. The sight of a big, scruffy dog on the loose was obviously a common one, however, as his presence was mostly ignored.

Sirius stopped in front of the tired-looking two-up, two-down terraced house. The paint on the door and windows was peeling and there was a pane of glass missing from the window at the top of the house which had been carefully boarded up from the inside. There were signs though that the occupant was trying to make up for the shortcomings of the building. There was a blaze of wild flowers in a vase on the front window-sill and in contrast to its neighbours, the door knocker was polished till it gleamed. No mistaking Remus's home, he thought grimly, he was still making the best of things.

He was about to paw the door and whine till Remus came but stopped in his tracks. A plump little witch with a basket of vegetables under her arm shooed him out of the way and knocked smartly at the door.

Giving her the hint of an impatient growl, he retreated to the other side of the street, sat down on his haunches and waited. The door opened and Remus appeared.

It was the first time Sirius had seen him since the Shrieking Shack and his first proper look at his old friend since he had been in Azkaban. The flecks of silver in his hair which had just started to show thirteen years ago, were now more pronounced: his face looked careworn and so much older than Sirius remembered. Older than his years, McGonagall had once called him: Sirius amended that mentally to old before his time. Only his eyes belied the world-weariness in his face. Even from where he sat among the busy flow of pedestrians, Sirius could see they were as alert and intense as ever and currently highly amused.

A smile had crooked Remus's mouth and he looked as if he were fighting to stop it widening into a grin. The witch was in full flow, loud enough for Sirius to hear:

"Dearie, you have to eat your greens up, didn't your mother always tell you? They're key to a growing lad like yourself, make you strong and hale and hearty - best thing you can do is have a nice healthy plate of vegetables for your dinner - set you up a treat for the day-"

She thrust the basket under Remus's nose which wrinkled a little. The produce was not at its freshest: the witch had picked up the stray vegetables left on the ground from the early morning market. Bruised tomatoes, a few wilted cabbages, straggly carrots and some rather scrawny potatoes.

Remus held up a hand to stop the patter, picked out a selection of the sad vegetables and disappeared inside. He reappeared and offered her a handful of Knuts which the witch accepted graciously.

The door closed and Sirius stood up, ready, but the witch still stood there, digging around in the pockets of her robes for something. The door opened again and Remus emerged, rolls of parchment bundled together neatly under one arm, his battered briefcase in his hand. He looked startled to see the witch still there.

"Wanted to give you this, dearie," she explained earnestly, thrusting a clump of dried heather at him. "Bring you lots of luck."

"Well, I can always find a use for luck," came the dry response. "Thank you."

He closed and locked his door, took the heather from her and hurried off down the street in the manner of someone who had an appointment to keep.

To Sirius's annoyance, the witch kept pace with him, babbling as they went about a variety of topics: it did not seem to worry her in the slightest that the conversation was one-sided. Sirius crossed the street and stalked the pair of them as they turned the corner into a more prosperous part of town.

After five minutes of pursuit, he made up his mind to simply barrel into them and pounce on Remus. He imagined the look on Remus's face: surprise and shock followed by recognition and a warm smile of welcome. Sirius suddenly found himself very hungry for that acknowledgement. It was one of the human dignities that he had not even noticed had been taken from him in Azkaban. The reason why he was there to see Remus did not lessen that hunger.

He readied himself to spring forward and in the same split-second, changed his mind. Two men loomed into Remus's path. The witch shrank away, muttering something about places to go and people to see. They let her leave: it was Remus they were interested in.

Sirius slunk down against the wall a few feet behind Remus. He recognised the men: Christie and Peabody. He had seen them visiting Azkaban and knew they were both employed by the Ministry although he was unclear as to their exact roles. Christie was as tall as Remus with a thin frame, his face pointed like a rat - Sirius stopped that thought in its tracks. Peabody was shorter and rather portly, his manner genial and charming: Sirius sensed that of the two, he was by far the more dangerous.

"Professor R J Lupin," Peabody greeted him. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"What do you want?" Remus's abrupt tone told Sirius volumes: it took a lot for his friend to be impolite.

Peabody tutted noisily. "Manners, Professor, manners. Mr Christie and myself were just on our way to call on you. Do you have a few moments?"

"Actually, I don't." Remus seemed to have recovered some of his composure. "I have a meeting at the Museum of Antiquities and I-"

"Why, let us escort you there, Professor," Peabody beamed. "We would be honoured, Mr Christie, wouldn't we?"

"Deeply," replied Christie in a thin, nasal voice. He took up a position at Remus's left shoulder and Peabody on his right. Sandwiched between them, Remus found he had little choice but to accept their company.

As the three men walked on, Sirius trotted behind, doing his best to remain unobtrusive. Luckily for him, none of the three glanced round.

"It's just a courtesy call, Professor," Peabody began. "We haven't seen you for a while and we wondered if any old friends had been in touch - a school reunion, maybe?"

Sirius's blood froze. Instinctively, he wanted to turn and run but he made himself go on.

"Do you mean Sirius Black?" Remus was obviously not in the mood to play games. "I have no idea where he is."

_Please don't turn around, Moony, whatever you do,_ Sirius prayed.

"Now we know you saw him last year," Peabody continued pleasantly. "There seems to be a little confusion over exactly what happened, but there was a suggestion that you may have helped him-"

"I answered the Ministry's questions at the time," Remus stopped just short of snapping. "As I said then, someone whom I thought I knew, whom I trusted like a brother was responsible for the death of one of my closest friends and his wife and deprived another of his chance for a happy life. That's the truth, Mr Peabody. The last thing I would ever want to do is help that person. If I ever see that person again I am much more likely to kill him."

His voice rang with steely resolution and Peabody raised his eyebrows. Even Sirius, who realised Remus meant Peter rather than himself, felt a shiver of apprehension: Moony made an implacable enemy.

Turning yet another corner, they walked on for a moment in silence until Remus came to a standstill.

"This is the Museum, gentlemen," Remus announced. "If you'll excuse me-"

"Certainly, Professor," Peabody smiled. He clasped Remus's right hand between his two palms and shook it vigorously. "Mr Christie and I must be on our way too."

He let go and the pair stood back, waiting for Remus to go into the Museum. Remus looked down at his hand as if he had a strong desire to wipe it on his robes then nodded curtly at both of them, turned on his heel and entered the building.

Sirius saw the smile slide from Peabody's face in an instant. He stared unblinking after Remus then pursed his lips and turned to his colleague. "Another time. Let's go."

Sirius watched them walk up the street and realised he had been holding his breath. He let it out slowly. He looked at the Museum entrance and grimaced: dogs would not be welcome. He put his big front paws up on the left-hand window-sill and peered in at a small room lined with books.

To his delight, he saw Remus in deep conversation with a man who looked like the curator. He gave a few small barks to try and attract Remus's attention but decided with exasperation that the windows were securely sound-proofed.

The curator was poring excitedly over the rolls of parchment Remus had been carrying which were now spread out across his desk. He was nodding enthusiastically as he read and Sirius guessed that Remus had undertaken some translation or research.

As the man rolled up the parchment, Remus said something. The curator's body language changed immediately. He stiffened up, walked round behind his desk and sat down. He started to talk, waving his hand expansively around the room. Remus let him finish and then spoke again.

This time, the curator shook his head firmly and folded his arms. Remus gave a slight shrug and started to gather the rolls of parchment together. The curator's hand shot out, gripping his arm. Remus stopped and looked at him. Sirius saw the man wilt under the intensity of that gaze and sympathised: he remembered how that look felt.

The curator dug into his pocket and produced a Galleon. He dropped the coin into Remus's palm: Remus simply studied it then lifted his eyes to the curator. The man tried to hold his gaze but to no avail: he sprang to his feet, thrust a second Galleon into Remus's palm and then walked to the door and threw it open. Remus nodded a goodbye and left.

Sirius dropped to the pavement ready to greet his friend. Suddenly, from nowhere, came a loud squeal, "Ooh! A doggy!" and a pair of arms was flung around his neck.

Panicked, Sirius started to struggle but found himself surrounded by a handful of children. The pair of arms belonged to a young girl of about nine who had a vice-like grip. Another slightly older girl knelt down and threw her arms around his body, squeezing his ribs painfully hard. A third girl, this time about six, smacked him repeatedly on the shoulder.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Remus disappearing up the street oblivious to the scene behind him. He fought to extricate himself from the children but they hung on like limpets. Something cold ran down Sirius's back and he twisted his head over his shoulder in time to see the lump of ice-cream slide down his fur. He glared angrily at the little boy who had dropped it by accident but the child was busy screaming his dismay at the top of his lungs and ignored him.

"It's a doggy, Nanny Roberts," the first girl announced to a breathless middle-aged witch who had arrived, panting hard. "Can we take him home? I'm sure Mummy and Daddy won't mind."

"We could call him Sparkle," breathed the second girl, continuing to hug him fiercely.

"No, Amelia," said the first girl crossly, "his name is Angel."

"Jell-jell," repeated the six-year-old solemnly. "Love Jell-jell." Sirius suddenly realised that the smacks she was administering were meant to be strokes: it did not stop him wincing.

"You could call him Smell," said a boy of about fourteen who looked positively fed-up at having to be seen with the girls in public. He glanced down moodily at Sirius. "Stupid dog," he said and then slumped against the wall.

"Amelia, Lydia, we really can't take the doggy home. He may have fleas…he may have diseases…" Nanny Roberts' voice trailed off as she looked uncertainly at Sirius.

He did his best to look like as unsavoury as possible then gave a sudden yelp: someone had stamped on his tail. He did not need to look round to know it was the older boy.

"Poor Sparkle!"

"Poor Angel!"

Enough! Sirius gave a threatening growl which was sufficient to make Amelia let go. He growled again more loudly and Lydia straightened up. He curled his lip and showed his teeth. Mesmerised, the girls backed away, eyes wide. Spotting his chance for freedom, Sirius took it and ran full pelt up the street after Remus.

Amelia looked furiously at her older brother. "It's your fault, Crispin," she scolded. "Sparkle knew you called him smelly."


	2. Chapter 2 A Little Learning

Chapter Two: A LITTLE LEARNING

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

Sirius could just make out Remus's shape ahead of him as he turned down a side street. Putting on an extra burst of speed, he dodged in and out of the pedestrians, determined to catch him.

He was about a hundred yards away when Remus turned smartly left through a gate and up a short path. Sirius sat panting at the gate and let out a howl of frustration as he saw Remus disappear into a house.

He shook himself, pushed the gate open and padded into the front garden. There was a small shrubbery and he sat in the bushes waiting, ears pricked. What on earth was Moony up to now?

From his position, he could see the front room of the house through a large bay window. There was a piano that had seen better days at the back of the room and a large oak table with six chairs in the bay. A couple of portraits hung on the wall. Sirius squinted; the subjects appeared to be snoring.

The door to the front room opened and a pale fair-haired woman in her thirties ushered Remus into the room. She was wearing a pinafore and had her sleeves rolled-up as if she had been baking. She wiped her hands nervously on her apron and kept smiling and nodding at Remus who in turn seemed to be speaking gently to her as if to put her at her ease.

She pulled out a chair at the table and Remus took his seat, opening his briefcase and taking out quills and parchment. Then she went to the door and appeared to call. Immediately, four children between the ages of five and ten rushed in to the room and sat at the table. Their clothes looked like hand-me-downs but their faces were clean and eager. Each was clutching a small book.

Sirius relaxed. The mystery was explained: Remus was doing a spot of private tuition. Sirius watched the silent tableau unfold before him. Remus was obviously going over their previous lesson and each of the children in turn were reading to him from the books. He stopped one occasionally to correct them but generally let them demonstrate what they had learned, smiling encouragement at them.

He was an excellent teacher, Sirius thought objectively, watching the children swell with pride as Remus praised their efforts. He felt proud of his friend's accomplishment and then angry as he remembered the letter Remus had sent him explaining why his position at Hogwarts had become untenable.

"_I made up my mind to leave: not drinking the Wolfsbane potion was - unforgivable. In more ways than one. In any case, Snape has decided to share with the general school populace the fact that their DADA professor is in fact a Dark Creature himself. Ah, well. Severus has his way after all. Maybe he'll take the vacant position."_

Sirius had snorted loudly when he had read that. Spiteful, vindictive Snivellus! Nothing changed.

The afternoon wore on. The woman brought fresh scones and milk into the room and Remus and the children took a break to eat them. Sirius's stomach rumbled. He realised he had eaten nothing since the night before. He laid down on his front paws in the drowsy sunshine and tried to ignore fantasies about roast beef, Yorkshire pudding and roast potatoes.

The sound of a front door slamming snapped him back to reality. He watched as a dark-haired, powerfully-built man burst into the front room causing Remus to jump to his feet. The children sat open-mouthed.

The pale woman came rushing in and stood in front of Remus as the man lunged forward. She appeared to be trying to placate the man whom Sirius supposed was her husband but did not seem to be having much success. Remus put his hands on her shoulders to try to move her gently out of the way. Sirius guessed he was explaining to the man about the lessons: in his head, Sirius could hear Remus's patient, reasonable tone.

An ugly scowl suffused the man's face; he interrupted Remus by reaching over and picking up one of the schoolbooks. Slowly and deliberately, he ripped it in two and threw it back down on the table. One of the children screwed up her face to cry but was hushed by her mother.

Remus looked sadly down at the destroyed book and then gathered together his teaching materials, snapping his briefcase shut. The woman put a hand on his arm and started to apologise but her husband pulled her away from Remus and gestured towards the door. Remus hesitated for a moment then left the room.

The front door opened and Remus emerged, his face white with emotion. He took a few steps down the garden path and Sirius started towards him then stopped as the pale-faced woman came running out.

"Professor Lupin," she called breathlessly, "please!"

Remus turned round and the woman pushed some bronze coins into his hand.

"Mrs Draper, I can't-"

"Please!" she said, looking anxiously over her shoulder. "Take them! I know it should be more, but…please just take them!"

"Alright," Remus said in a low voice. He threw a glance back up the path. "Will you and the children be okay?"

"Yes, we'll be fine," Mrs Draper assured him, edging back towards the door. "I'm sorry, Professor, I'm so sorry…"

And with that, she fled into the house. Remus looked after her uncertainly then sighed and walked out of the gate.

He felt something nudge his knee and looked down to see a big scruffy-looking dog wagging its tail at him. His eyebrows shot up.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed then looked round hurriedly to check that no one had heard him.

He dropped quickly to one knee.

"Can you come back to my house with me? We can talk there."

Sirius gave a joyful bark and the two of them set off at a brisk pace homewards.

Remus stopped at a butcher's to buy some sausages and picked up a bottle of Firewhisky from a shadowy little shop that passing Muggles ignored: both purchases received a happy woof of approval.

The journey home passed without incident apart from one point where a group of children with a harassed-looking governess went past in an open-topped carriage. One of them pointed at Sirius and shrieked "Sparkle! Look, it's Sparkle!"

"You mean Angel," shouted her sister at the top of her voice.

"Jell-jell!" bellowed another girl as the carriage took them in the opposite direction.

Sirius kept his eyes straight ahead and affected not to notice. A moment passed and he risked a glance up at Remus. Remus looked like he hadn't heard; Sirius breathed a sigh of relief.

They reached the two-bedroom terrace and Remus opened the door.

"After you," he motioned Sirius in and followed him.

"Sparkle," he added, shutting the door.

Sirius launched himself at him with a mock-snarl and sent him and his briefcase flying.

"Enough, enough," Remus laughed, pushing him away. He propped himself up on one elbow. "Padfoot, it's good to see you - you have no idea how good. But why are you here? And where's Buckbeak?"

The dog changed into Sirius, sitting cross-legged on the floor, his expression turning grim.

"Buckbeak's being looked after by Dumbledore. He sent me here with news, Moony, news of the worst kind."

Remus sat up straight.

"Harry?" he asked urgently.

"He's OK," Sirius reassured him.

He hesitated for a moment as if wondering where to begin.

"Look, would you mind if I talk while you cook, Remus? I know it's early but this is going to take a while and frankly, I'm starving."

They moved into the kitchen and while Remus fried the sausages and prepared the vegetables he had bought earlier, Sirius explained the events of the previous night.

Several times Remus stopped what he was doing to stare in disbelief at his friend.

"Cedric Diggory?" Remus shook his head incredulously. "I taught him…he was an excellent student…Cedric's dead?"

Sirius nodded. He continued with Harry's account of the events in the graveyard. When Remus heard the part Wormtail had had to play, his mouth settled into a tight grimace.

"Peter," he said with disgust.

"We should have killed him, Moony, back at the Shack."

"It was Harry's choice we didn't," Remus pointed out. "And as you said, of all of us, he has the most right."

Sirius scowled.

"Next time," he muttered.

The story of Voldemort's resurrection and the battle of the wands kept Remus by turn so horrified and enthralled that the sausages would have been cremated if Sirius had not rescued them.

"So Voldemort lives." Remus gave a shudder. "Somehow I hoped we wouldn't have to face him at full power again. _Priori Incantatem_ with the wands…that's very rare. Harry saw James and Lily?"

"Their after-images at any rate," Sirius said, serving up the meal. "Like Dumbledore said, the dead can't live again."

Over the meal, Sirius explained how Barty Crouch Jnr had escaped Azkaban and impersonated Alastor Moody. The story about the Dementor's Kiss made Remus push his plate away.

"What is it?" Sirius asked in between mouthfuls.

"That would have happened to you…" Remus whispered. In his mind's eye, he could see the cloaked figure swooping down on a helpless Sirius. "You would have been…" he broke off and swallowed quickly.

Sirius chewed a piece of sausage in bewilderment for a few seconds before the penny dropped.

"Padfoot, I…" Remus studied the table-top. "I let you down. I let James and Lily and Harry down. If only I'd drunk that damn potion…" Self-loathing filled his face.

"Hey, enough of that!" Sirius put his knife and fork down. "Moony, we can't go through life playing "What if?". I know it's tempting. Do you think I didn't sit in Azkaban thinking "What if I'd waited for Remus and we'd gone after Peter together?" or "What if I'd stuck with being the Secret-Keeper?" - of course I did!"

He leaned forward for emphasis.

"But this is the thing, we make choices, some of them conscious, some of them unconscious. And we have to live with the consequences. It's no use crying over spilt Wolfsbane. We've got a job to do."

Taking a deep breath of resolve, Remus nodded. He listened to Sirius explain about the messages to Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix and the instruction to "lie low at Lupin's" for a while.

He frowned. "Finding Arabella will be no problem. Dung might be a little trickier. He tends to be on the move a lot. Let's see…who else is there?" He counted them off on his fingers. "Dedalus, Emmeline, Mad-Eye…well, he'll already know…Elphias…and Sturgis. I'll send a note to all of them telling them to be ready."

"You forgot Frank and Alice," Sirius said, waving a fork at him.

One look at Remus's shocked face told him he had said something wrong.

"They're dead?" he hazarded.

"St Mungo's," Remus said quietly. "Tortured for information after Voldemort disappeared. They never recovered."

This time it was Sirius who pushed his plate away, his appetite quite vanished.

"They had a kid, Harry's age…" he said slowly.

"Neville," Remus supplied. "I taught him at Hogwarts."

"What's he like?"

"Takes after his mother in looks. Brought up by his grandmother and I think he's had a lot to live up to. Nice kid, though."

"I hope I meet him someday," Sirius said solemnly. "Frank and Alice…anything else I missed out on?"

"I don't know…I don't think so…the rest of the Order survived. We just slipped back into our usual roles. I haven't seen Arabella or the others very much since. I guess now we'll have a chance to catch up with them together."

Going to a small chest of drawers, he dug out parchment and quill then opened the back door and on cue, a small brown owl flew in.

"You've met Amos," he said.

Amos flew lazily around the kitchen while Remus quickly dashed off the letters. Their content was innocuous enough to avoid rousing suspicion in any reader outside the Order of the Phoenix.

Having sent Amos on his way, Remus turned back to find Sirius with two glasses and the bottle of Firewhisky in his hands.

"Time for a chat, Moony," he ordered. "I want to tell you about my day."


	3. Chapter 3 Fireside Companions

Chapter Three: FIRESIDE COMPANIONS

It was still a warm summer's night but with Sirius in the house, Remus did not want to take the risk of having windows open. He drew the curtains of the front room firmly, shutting out the outside world then turned to see Sirius laying the fire in the grate.

"A fire?" he queried.

"Well, not a hot one," Sirius replied, rolling his eyes.

Remus produced his wand and lit the fire then muttered "_Ventusia" _ and instead of scorching warmth, the flames circulated a pleasant breeze around the room.

The two of them sat side by side in armchairs sipping the whisky and with extreme reluctance, Sirius explained how he had come to be christened Sparkle.

"It was your fault," he said grumpily as Remus sat chuckling. "You should have been quicker in that Museum. What was in those rolls of parchment anyway?"

Remus sobered up a little.

"Research. I spent about four months on that project and Pennyfeather seemed to forget we had an agreement…I can assure you two Galleons was far short of the sum we fixed on."

He stared down at his glass, the firelight making the amber liquid seem alive.

"Pennyfeather said that the Museum's budget was spent. I'd have more sympathy if I didn't suspect that he was lining his own pockets. Dragonhide boots on a curator's salary…"

He left the thought dangling.

Sirius reached out with a poker and nudged the logs on the fire.

"Tell me about Mrs Draper," he said.

"Elinor Draper," Remus supplied. "Used to be Elinor Rutherford. She was a first year Hufflepuff when we were in our final year at Hogwarts."

He shrugged.

"The family's poor. She wants to give her children an education. I'm within their budget."

"That was her husband who broke up the lesson?" Sirius wanted to know. "What's his problem?"

"Patrick Draper," Remus nodded. His face darkened. "He's a Squib. He doesn't want his children to be better educated than himself. Unfortunately, that extends to basic literacy."

He shook his head.

"I hope she's alright," he said quietly. "I thought about staying there in case he turned violent but my presence just seemed to anger him further. And then she came after me and gave me those Knuts…so unnecessary…"

Sirius raised an eyebrow. He knew another person with the same fierce pride and stubborn streak of independence. Someone who, rather than accept a friend's financial support, would choose to scrape a living from poorly paid academic research and irregular private tuition. All of which allowed him to indulge himself in cheap meat and nearly new vegetables. Which reminded him…

"Does that annoying little witch visit you every morning with those second-hand veg?"

Remus chuckled.

"Her name's Peggy and she comes by three times a week. She always talks to me like I'm ten. She's harmless, though."

So that covered every encounter of the day except one. The one that Sirius really wanted to know the truth about.

"What about Christie and Peabody?" he asked softly. "Are they harmless too?"

The question caught Remus by surprise and he almost dropped his glass.

"How do you know them?" he asked.

Sirius shrugged.

"They came to Azkaban a few times. I've no idea why. I knew I didn't like them when I saw them smiling at the Dementors like they were long-lost friends." He swung round in his chair. "More importantly, how do _you_ know them?"

Remus did not answer for a moment then he said: "They- er- they work at the Ministry. Dangerous Creatures Department."

He looked down at Sirius's glass which was half-empty.

"Need a top-up? Not bad this stuff, is it? Remember chatting up Madame Rosmerta when you-"

"Yes, I do," Sirius interrupted. "And you're changing the subject. Tell me about Christie and Peabody."

"Padfoot-"

"Tell me," Sirius insisted.

Remus let out a sigh. He knew how tenacious Sirius could be. Meeting Sirius's stern gaze unwillingly, he began.

"When the Ministry found out that Dumbledore had invited me to teach at Hogwarts, there was some concern as to whether or not I was safe to be let loose amongst the pupils."

"Go on." Sirius gritted his teeth. Already, he didn't like where this story was leading.

"The Wolfsbane potion was a relatively new discovery," Remus explained. "They said they wanted to make sure it had the correct effect on me. I accepted the offer from Dumbledore in July. I went to the Ministry the week before the July full moon and drank the potion under their supervision. Then, there was a cage…"

_The cage had been about fifteen foot square. He had allowed himself to be locked in it. Christie was clutching a clipboard on which he scribbled the occasional note. Peabody had taken up residence on the other side, staring at him through the bars. _

_Part of him had wanted to revolt. He forced away the feeling that he was on display in some sort of zoo and reminded himself of the job at Hogwarts. It would all be worth it. _

"So they watched you transform?" Sirius's voice was heavy with distaste. He could imagine Christie and Peabody peering voyeuristically through the cage as his friend went through the agony of the change.

_He had tried very hard not to make a sound as his body pulled itself into the familiar shape of the wolf. He didn't want Christie and Peabody to think that he had no control over the process though of course, he had none at all. Both of the onlookers had watched open-jawed. When the change was complete, he had curled himself into a ball on the floor of the cage._

_In the morning, he had stood up and put his clothes back on. _

"And they let me out," he said shortly. "That's it."

He leaned forward and threw another log on the fire.

A frown flickered across Sirius's face. Apart from the fact that the story did not feel finished, he sensed that Remus was holding back. Intuition seized him.

"What about the August full moon?"

Remus's head shot round. He opened his mouth and closed it again, the words of denial dying on his lips. He could see that Sirius was not going to let it lie.

"They called me back in," he said heavily.

_He'd returned in August. More tests, they'd said. He'd already begun to dislike Peabody's smile but he'd clamped down on his anger and smiled back. Drunk the potion. Allowed himself to be locked in the cage. _

_Christie hadn't been there. Peabody had beckoned him down to the far end of the cage away from the door and he'd seen the manacles fixed to the floor. He'd looked questioningly at Peabody who'd said: "Protection". _

"_These won't hold the wolf," he'd said._

_Peabody's smile had widened. As always, it failed to meet his eyes._

"_Humour me, Professor." _

_And he chained himself up, knowing that very shortly, he would be free. _

_Peabody had reached through the bars and gathered up his robes._

"_For safe-keeping," he had said by way of explanation._

_He'd sat quietly telling himself to go along with any of their whimsical requests. "Convince them you're not a threat, make sure they let you go to Hogwarts…" _

_Then Christie had come in to the room with another man who looked to be in his early twenties. His clothes did not look like those of a Ministry official and that set the first alarm bells ringing. _

_He'd sat up as straight as the manacles would allow when Christie opened the door to the cage and pushed the man inside._

_Peabody had hurried forward to answer his unspoken question. _

"_An observer, Professor, a mere observer. Treat him as you would a student who happened to run across you at just the wrong time."_

_He stared at the man who had stayed by the locked cage door. The man in turn was shooting him nervous glances and licking his lips. _

_He smiled a friendly smile at the stranger hoping to allay any fears but there was no response. He opened his mouth to reassure the other man but at that moment the pull of the moon initiated the change. His shoulders went rigid and his skull started to realign itself. _

_There was a prolonged scream which he was startled to find had not come from him but from the other occupant of the cage. The man was trying to climb the bars of the cage, his face convulsed with horror._

_The cold shock of realisation washed over him and distracted him from the pain._

"They hadn't told him you were a werewolf…" Sirius whispered. "Oh, Moony…"

Remus was silent for a moment then said: "Do you remember the first time you saw me change?"

Of course, he did. It had been utterly terrifying. And he'd _known _it was going to happen.

"He didn't know I was a werewolf and he didn't know I wouldn't hurt him. I couldn't tell him…I tried to but by then I'd lost my voice…"

_The explanation had emerged as a howl from the wolf. He'd pulled free from the chains and looked round desperately for Christie and Peabody to tell the man he had nothing to fear. They were both by the cage door._

_He trotted towards them and the screams grew louder. He stopped at once and backed away. Okay, this was supposed to be a frightened student…what would he do if this situation really happened? He decided to make himself as unthreatening as possible and laid down, head on paws._

_Gradually, the screaming stopped. The man dropped to his knees and started rocking rhythmically backwards and forwards, breathing heavily._

_Happy that at least they had reached an impasse, he'd flicked a nervous glance in the direction of Peabody and Christie who were deep in conversation._

"What happened next?" Sirius's voice was tight with anger.

Remus closed his eyes, reliving the memory.

_His ears had picked up Peabody whispering to the prisoner._

"_He's waiting for you to go to sleep. Then he'll attack. He'll bite you. You'll turn into an animal just like him."_

_Christie pushed something into the man's hand and said: "Defend yourself."_

_The crack of a whip bit through the air. He just had time to register the gleam of anticipation in both Christie and Peabody's eyes before he felt the first lash._

"After the whip, a club…then something with voltage running through it…"

Sirius sat in fascinated horror as Remus recited the list of weapons Peabody and Christie had given the frightened man to use on the wolf.

"I couldn't…if I'd snapped at him, it would have meant I couldn't go to Hogwarts…"

_He'd tried running and dodging but it didn't make any difference: the cage was too small to avoid his assailant. Now he was curled miserably into a corner, waiting for the next attack._

_The man had grown braver. Since he'd met no resistance, he'd been encouraged to push further, past his fear. Peabody and Christie had urged him on to greater acts of cruelty. _

_Eventually, the man stopped, exhausted, and retreated to the far end of the cage once more._

_The wolf tried to raise itself up but it was simply too weak. With a whimper, he collapsed again in the corner and passed out._

_When he woke, human again, in the morning, the other man had been taken away. _

_He found he could not open his right eye. He stood up gingerly, favouring his left leg which had been stamped on repeatedly the night before. His left arm felt like it was broken and his right shoulder bore a severe burn. He didn't want to think about the state his back was in. Ribs aching, he limped to the open cage door in no hurry to look at himself in a mirror. _

_Peabody was waiting for him, offering a helping hand which he deliberately ignored. Christie pushed his robes into his arms. Anger burned steadily through him and it took all of his self-control not to let it spill over._

"_Did you find out what you needed to know?" he asked, his voice hoarse._

"_Indeed, we did, Professor," Peabody beamed. "You'll be pleased to hear that we have complete confidence in your ability to conduct yourself. Do we not, Mr Christie?"_

"_Every confidence," Christie echoed._

Remus's body started to shake, overcome by recollection. Sirius was out of his chair at once and threw his arms around him in a fierce embrace.

"It's alright, Moony," he said reassuringly, rocking him gently until the shaking stopped. He pushed him back in the chair and poured him some more Firewhisky. "Drink this."

Remus accepted the glass gratefully and drained it. He looked up at Sirius and said doubtfully: "I suppose they _could_ have been testing me…"

"That pair of sadistic monsters…" Sirius broke off, swearing savagely. "It was just senseless torture, Moony, and you know it."

Remus shook his head.

"I don't mean testing me for the reasons they gave. The only thing I can think is that they were testing the wolf. Seeing how powerful Wolfsbane potion is - how far they could go without the wolf reasserting itself. The instinct for fight or flight is engrained in all of us. And there was no flying from that cage…"

"Surely that wouldn't be sanctioned by the Ministry?" Sirius frowned.

"There's been a rather unsettling element growing within the Ministry," Remus said darkly. "A woman called Dolores Umbridge, for one. She's taken it upon herself to crusade against a number of creatures, Dark or otherwise. She's drafted employment legislation that puts in so many hoops for werewolves to jump through that no one wants to bother employing them in the first place. Rather narrows one's career opportunities."

Sirius sat back down again in his chair, his hands clenched tightly into fists so that his knuckles showed white. Obviously not all of the changes post-Voldemort had been for the better.

"The Ministry interrogated you after last year - was it Christie and Peabody? What happened?"

"Well, Snape was - rather creative with his account of what went on in the Shack."

Sirius's mouth twisted into a smile in spite of himself.

"Let me guess. He defended three helpless children from the rampaging serial-killer."

"Something like that," Remus admitted. "Apparently I was snarling viciously but I'm not sure if that was before I turned into the nine-foot werewolf or not."

Sirius gave a bark of laughter, feeling the insane rage inside him start to subside.

"Anyway," Remus went on, "after Snape had hysterics when you escaped, his description of events was treated somewhat…cautiously. Actually, it was an Auror called Kingsley Shacklebolt who came to question me. I gave him an edited version."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I remembered very little once the moon had risen. The Ministry knows I change at moonrise."

"Why didn't you that night?" Sirius's eyes showed genuine puzzlement.

"Honestly? I have no idea." Remus poured them both some more Firewhisky. "I know in the Shack I was burning with such cold fury…something almost primal…maybe that held off the transformation. When I was outside, my mind had moved on to how your name would be cleared and Peter would have to answer for his crimes…I don't know…"

He tailed off then said softly:

"I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted to say that we had all been wrong, that you were innocent, to tell him about Peter's guilt…but I didn't."

He looked at Sirius.

"I had a long talk with Dumbledore when I resigned. He pointed out that the Ministry was unlikely to act on the word of three underage wizards and a werewolf. Especially a werewolf who had been one of your closest friends. There was no sign of Peter, of course. Dumbledore suggested that I should act as if I had never discovered what had really happened."

_Dumbledore had looked over his glasses at him and smiled reassuringly._

'"_There will come a time, Remus, when all will come to light. Until that time, you would do well to keep a low profile and maintain the respect of the Ministry although I am aware that that respect comes grudgingly from some quarters."_

"It wasn't hard to convince Kingsley how passionately I wanted my old school friend to be caught. We were just talking at cross-purposes."

The fire had burned low. Remus picked up the bottle of Firewhisky and found it was empty. He stood up.

"There are times I can't bear it you know," he said B propos of nothing.

Sirius looked questioningly at him.

"I stand behind people in shops and I hear them gossiping about you. Sometimes, I have to bite my tongue to stop myself telling them that you're innocent. It feels like betrayal when I don't correct them."

Sirius got to his feet.

"I'm happy that you know the truth, Moony, you and Harry. Above all others."

They stood looking at each other in the dying firelight and then Remus smiled.

"Alright, Sparkle, let's call it a night."

He found his wand, extinguished the fire and produced a handful of flames to light the way to the guest bedroom.

Pushing open the door, Sirius saw the neat bedroom he remembered from what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"I'm afraid it's not aired," Remus apologised. "Hotel Lupin usually likes some notice of visitors."

Sirius shook his head.

"You might lose a few stars for that."

He dropped on to the bed, suddenly aware how dog-tired he was.

"Night, Moony," he yawned.

"Sleep well, Padfoot," came the reply.

A gentle snore told him Sirius planned to do exactly that.


	4. Chapter 4 Night and Day

-1Chapter 4: NIGHT AND DAY

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

_He was trapped. Twisting and turning, he searched ceaselessly for a way out but there was none. The bars surrounded him on all sides and beyond them lay deep blackness._

_A scream of agony rang out then another and another. They seemed to be coming closer._

_Heart racing, he padded the length and breadth of the cage trying to find their source. _

_Suddenly the darkness lifted and he saw a darkly clad figure in front of him. A Dementor? Or was it…_

"…_Voldemort," he whispered to himself but when the figure lifted its face he saw it was Patrick Draper._

"_I don't need weapons to make you suffer," said Patrick in Christie's high nasal tones. "Look!"_

_He saw where the screams were coming from. A man and a woman were hanging limply from the bars at the far end of the cage._

_Frank and Alice! He ran towards them. Then one of the figures lifted its head and he realised it was Lily…Lily and James._

"_NO!"_

Sirius woke up, wondering whether the scream had been part of the nightmare or not. Throat dry, he looked around with a feeling of immense disorientation before remembering where he was.

He licked his lips and got to his feet, not anxious to go back to sleep immediately. His heart still thumping with adrenalin, he found his way to Remus's door. It was ajar.

Inside, he could make out Remus's form wrapped in dreamless sleep. His hair had fallen into his eyes and his breathing was steady and uninterrupted.

Sirius stared at his friend for a moment then made up his mind. Changing into his dog-form he jumped nimbly up on to the bed and curled up at Remus's feet.

Morning dawned and Remus opened his eyes, aware of an unfamiliar weight on his right foot. Looking down the bed, he saw the large, black dog that was Sirius stretched out, dead to the world. Easing his foot out gently from underneath him, he dressed and made his way downstairs as quietly as he could.

At some point earlier in the century, a bathroom had been added to the back of the kitchen. It was small and not well heated but Remus was eternally grateful for the convenience of indoor plumbing.

Emerging from the bathroom, he found Amos waiting at the kitchen window, claws full of correspondence. He let Amos in and relieved him of the envelopes which he opened while the owl sat on the edge of the sink, dipping his beak in the saucer of water provided for him.

Soon, Remus had all six discreet responses from the members of the Order spread out on the table in front of him. A graphologist would have a field day, he decided.

Arabella's ink-splattered missive lay next to the spidery handwriting of Dedalus Diggle. If Dedalus hadn't been the eccentric inventor he was, he would almost certainly have succeeded as a Muggle doctor, thought Remus, squinting at the parchment. He remembered seeing a prescription once in Muggle Studies: the scrawl had been almost as unintelligible.

It was in stark contrast to Emmeline Vance's meticulous copperplate but then Remus would have expected nothing less of the former Emmeline Blott. The owner of Flourish and Blott's, who had been widowed very early on in the first war against Voldemort, was an extremely precise person.

Sturgis's letters were formed in stiff, rather spiky black ink while Elphias Doge had a flamboyant, flowing style. As for Mundungus Fletcher's reply…Remus picked the tobacco-stained letter up by the edges.

"Is that from Dung?" Sirius stood in the kitchen doorway.

Remus nodded and gingerly laid down the parchment, deciding he'd really rather not identify the other substances soiling the letter.

"They're all ready. Even Dung."

He looked up at his friend.

"Bad night?" he asked mildly.

"Not one of my best," Sirius admitted, holding his gaze.

A tap at the window made them both turn round. It was a large tawny owl with a stiff piece of card in its beak. Remus let it in then took the card which had the Hogwarts crest at the top of it and turned it so that Sirius could see.

Below the crest, in Dumbledore's neat script were the words: "_Expect me tomorrow night._"

At the very bottom, there was a PS: "_I would very much welcome a bite to eat."_

The tawny owl who had been sharing Amos's saucer of water gave a hoot and fluttered on to the table in front of Remus. Strapped to its left leg was a small bag which Remus carefully detached. He upended it on the table and a handful of Galleons rolled out together with a well-folded note which read:

"_Incidentally, on auditing our records, I find there was a slight clerical error in calculating your last salary from Hogwarts: please accept the balance with my apologies_."

_Clever, _thought Sirius approvingly. _A decent reason and enough money to make sure Moony's not out of pocket over this, but not so much money that Moony's going to be too embarrassed to accept it. At least I hope not…_

He cast a worried glance at Remus who was staring at the coins with a deep frown and Sirius guessed immediately that he had seen through the note.

The frown deepened. Remus was torn between accepting what he saw as charity or returning the money to Dumbledore with a denial that he had been underpaid and thereby insulting his old Headmaster by implying he had made a mistake. Eventually, he let out a sigh of resignation, scooped the coins together and put them in his pocket. He stood up.

"Hungry?" he asked.

Over breakfast, the discussion centred on Dumbledore's imminent visit.

"I doubt the Ministry is prepared for Voldemort's return," Remus said. "Dumbledore's our best hope."

"Why is he waiting till tomorrow night?" Sirius wondered. "Why isn't he coming this evening?"

"Because he probably has a calendar," Remus replied.

Seeing Sirius's blank look, he held up a cup of what Sirius had hitherto thought to be rather foul-smelling herbal tea.

"I'm not drinking this for fun, you know."

"Full moon," Sirius acknowledged. He looked round the kitchen. "Where do you er-?"

"It used to be the cellar," Remus explained, indicating a small trapdoor in the corner which Sirius had never noticed. "It held me well enough once the door was reinforced with magic. Now, I just curl up in an armchair."

He drained the dregs of the potion, grimacing as he did so.

"I have to go out, Padfoot. One of the regulations the Ministry has introduced is that they can summon any werewolf to report in on the morning before full moon. And I received my summons yesterday."

He pointed to the top of the chest of drawers and Sirius leaned over and picked up an official-looking piece of parchment.

"_Dear Professor Lupin_," it began. "_As you are aware, the recent Control of Dangerous Creatures - subsection Werewolves Decree Number 473 requires you to present yourself for inspection at the Ministry on the morning before any transformation if so requested. _

_The purpose of this letter therefore is to notify you that your presence is required this month and that you must register with us WITHOUT FAIL before noon the day after tomorrow._

_Should you not attend for any reason, the Ministry reserves the right to take necessary action._

_Yours sincerely_

_Demeter Lewthwaite_

_Dangerous Creatures Department_

_Ministry of Magic"_

"Decree Number 473?"

Remus smiled.

"That's just the main Decrees. There's a whole host of subsidiary laws that support them."

"I had no idea…" Sirius turned back to the letter. "So basically, they can call you in at very short notice at any time and expect you to turn up. What happens if you don't get there because you're ill or just happen to have other plans for that day?"

"You rearrange your plans and you crawl off your sickbed if you have to," Remus answered. "They don't accept excuses."

Sirius looked up at him.

"'Necessary action' sounds nicely vague. What does it mean?"

Remus gave a shrug.

"Tagging…imprisonment…I don't intend to find out."

"How often do you get summoned?"

"Well, it's a random process-"

"No, Moony," Sirius interrupted. "How often do _you_ get summoned?"

"The laws came in last November," Remus said quietly. "They've called me every month since."

Their eyes met across the table; fierce indignation versus stoic acceptance.

"Padfoot, I've been living with bureaucracy all my life," Remus said finally. "Believe me, compliance is by far the easier option."

"But it's harassment!" Sirius muttered through clenched teeth. "You should be able to complain!"

"I refuse to give them ammunition," Remus replied, getting to his feet. "Look, I need to pick up some provisions so I should be back late afternoon."

He looked worriedly at his friend who was still scowling at the Ministry communication. "Will you be-?"

Sirius waved a dismissive hand at him. "I'll be fine."

"Alright," Remus said. He considered for a moment then drew his wand and cast a spell Sirius was unfamiliar with.

"It'll keep the temperature in the house as it is now," Remus explained. "It should last a good six hours. Otherwise you'll be baking."

He walked to the front door.

"The house is yours as ever. I'll see you later."

Following him into the sitting room, Sirius nodded and watched the door close behind him.


	5. Chapter 5 Day and Night

Chapter Five: …DAY AND NIGHT

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

Sirius was bored by noon.

He had cleared the breakfast things away and tidied the kitchen which in reality needed very little tidying.

He had run a bath before remembering that there was a certain knack to the heating system which only Remus had ever mastered. As it was, he found the lukewarm water welcoming enough and seized the chance to freshen up.

Going through to the front room, he had cast his eyes over the sagging bookshelves and marvelled at Remus's eclectic tastes. There were very old books on magic which Sirius was sure would have sat unopened in most people's libraries and been purely there for show. He was absolutely convinced that his friend had read them cover to cover.

Beneath the many textbooks, Sirius found to his surprise some Muggle books. He picked up one which turned out to be poetry and hastily put it down again. Remus had been the bookworm:

he himself had never been one for reading. His interests lay in doing, exploring, something active…

A thought occurred and he rummaged in the kitchen chest of drawers to find parchment and quill.

Sitting at the kitchen table, he began a letter to his godson. The letter stayed at "Dear Harry" for some minutes as he thought about what he wanted to say. Words tumbled through his brain till he grew impatient with himself and started writing anyway.

He read it back:

_Dear Harry_

_I can't find the words to describe how I felt when I heard the ordeal you went through in that graveyard. Seeing Cedric die…that horrific resurrection ritual…the stuff of nightmares._

_I _can _tell you that I have never been more proud when I listened to how you battled Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Your actions showed real strength of character. You have shown once again that you are indeed James's son._

_Your godfather_

_Sirius_

He nodded to himself. It was short but it was absolutely what he wanted to tell Harry. He blotted it and folded it: hopefully Dumbledore could take it back with him. Using Amos might put Remus in a difficult position if the letter were intercepted.

He made himself a sandwich and went through to the front room where he sat and watched the clock on the mantelpiece drip time like honey.

Remus was also bored.

He had filled in the Ministry forms in triplicate as required: by now, they were so familiar to him that he could have done so blindfolded. His mind turned to Sirius and his indignation at his treatment by the Ministry. _Same old Padfoot,_ he smiled to himself, _as passionate about perceived injustice as ever._ He wondered briefly if he himself had changed: had he grown more complacent about things he would have challenged in his youth? Perhaps, he mused: but then he had never been one to make undue fuss where he himself was concerned. He turned his attention back to the paperwork.

He had just finished what he hoped was the last list of questions when the door to the little room opened and Peabody appeared. The hairs immediately went up on the back of Remus's neck.

"Professor! Twice in two days!" The Ministry official practically bounced into the room. "No, don't get up."

Remus, who had had no intention of rising, remained seated, his face expressionless.

"One more formality to go through this time, I'm afraid. An exam."

"Exam?" Remus frowned. "What sort of exam?"

Peabody beamed. "Why, a medical one, of course. This way."

Reluctantly, Remus got to his feet and followed Peabody down the narrow corridor. Peabody pushed open a door and ushered Remus in. Stepping past him, Remus found himself in what looked like a doctor's waiting room. Six men were already seated, some browsing through Ministry literature, a couple staring at the ceiling with a look of resigned indifference that Remus recognised as one that he himself wore on days like these.

"Have a seat, Professor, I just want a word with Healer Johnson."

Peabody disappeared through the door at the top of the room without, Remus noted, knocking first. Typical of Peabody's arrogance, he thought bitterly, as he sat down. At least the nature of the exam was clear now. He found himself fervently hoping that neither Peabody nor Christie would be conducting it.

Peabody re-emerged followed by a tall, black woman whom Remus deduced was Healer Johnson.

"Don't you worry, Mr Peabody," she was assuring him. "I'll do just as you say."

Remus thought that if Peabody's smile grew any wider, his face would probably split. He was disconcerted to see that Peabody's gaze was fixed on him. The portly official nodded at him and left.

Remus's mind was racing. Lost as he was in thoughts and possibilities, he was startled to hear his name.

"I said 'Which of you gentlemen is Lupin, Professor R J?'" The healer stood, hands on hips, staring round the waiting room.

Remus rose and she beckoned him into her office and closed the door. She motioned him to take a seat and sat down opposite him.

"I'm about to have some tea, Professor," she said unexpectedly. "Would you like some? I bet no one's offered you any refreshments so far, have they?"

Taken aback, Remus shook his head then found his voice.

"No, they haven't. And yes, I'd love some tea."

"Good." The healer poured two cups and handed him one. Seeing the sudden look of scepticism Remus gave the drink, she drank deeply from her own cup and said: "I'm not in the habit of poisoning my patients."

She watched while Remus drank and then leaned forward.

"Let me introduce myself. I am Healer Meredith Jane Johnson. If I allow you to call me Meredith, would it be alright to call you R J?"

"Remus, my name is Remus," he supplied, responding to the twinkle in the woman's eye. She was by far the most human and vivacious person he had seen all day.

"Well, Remus, would you mind explaining to me what you've done to upset Mr Peabody so?"

He stared at her, uncomprehending.

She went on:

"Mr Peabody has just been in here giving me explicit instructions that not only am I to take twice as long over every person who was here before you but that when you eventually make it in here, I am to conduct even more stringent tests. For which he would like to be a witness."

Remus gave an involuntary shudder.

Meredith sat back in her chair.

"Now, I don't like being told what to do at the best of times," she admitted, "and I especially don't like being told by Mr Peabody whom I confess gives me the creeps."

Remus silently agreed.

"I reckon," Meredith said slowly, "he wants to detain you so long that you won't be able to make it back home safely to transform. I think he wants to keep you here."

"No!" Remus was out of the chair in an instant.

"Steady, R J, steady," Meredith waved him back into his seat. "I didn't say that was what was going to happen."

She looked at him curiously. "Has he done that before? Kept you here to transform?"

Remus's face closed up. He hadn't meant to give so much away.

"Once or twice," he said tightly. "But not again if I can help it."

She nodded and decided not to press the point. Turning to her desk she became business-like.

"OK, Remus, this is an annual medical examination which the Ministry chose in their wisdom to introduce only last week for all registered werewolves. Some of these are quite standard things to check, others seem designed just for the hell of it."

She looked up from her paperwork.

"I hate bureaucracy for the sake of bureaucracy. Especially when I could be back at St Mungo's doing my proper job. Now, I propose that we rattle through this examination as quickly as possible and have you out of here before Peabody comes back. I'll tell him I mixed up the names. What do you think?"

Remus grinned in spite of himself. Meredith grinned back.

"Meredith," he said with genuine warmth, "where do we start?"

He'd hesitated for a moment before deciding to explore the cellar. Delicacy protested that it was an intrusion but was outvoted by curiosity and ennui. Pulling up the trapdoor, he carefully manoeuvred the lit candle down the steep steps and into the darkness.

The cellar had the dank, musty smell he had been expecting. Casting the light around, Sirius could see the deep scratches in the walls made over the years by a lonely, angry werewolf. Apart from an old mattress in the corner, it was empty.

Sirius suddenly shivered. The place reminded him of his cell in Azkaban. In the cheerless and oppressive atmosphere, he could imagine a host of Dementors lurking. He scrabbled back out of the cellar and closed the trapdoor.

He sat on the kitchen floor in heavy silence and found himself yearning for Remus's return.

Meredith pushed the pile of paperwork to one side with a sigh. Her final patient had gone and she was glad to finish her notes and leave. Without warning, her door was flung open. She turned round to find Peabody, for once, unsmiling.

"Where is Professor Lupin?" he snapped. "I specifically requested that you keep him here for a detailed examination."

"Lupin? Are you sure?" Meredith made a pretence of flicking through her notes. "Why, I saw him ages ago. I thought you said Martin."

She looked up in feigned bewilderment and was gratified to see a small muscle twitch under Peabody's left eye.

"Then where, pray, is Mr Martin?"

"Oh, we didn't have a Mr Martin today," she said earnestly. "I thought you must have got the name wrong."

There was a silence while Peabody digested the information. His eyes bored into hers in pursuit of the truth but Meredith did not flinch. At last, Peabody lowered his gaze.

"Well, well," he said, back to his jovial self, "it can't be helped. See you next month, Healer Johnson. I'll remember to be more explicit in what I ask for."

Meredith relaxed as the door closed behind him.

_Score one for you and me, R J,_ she thought.

The sound of the front door closing shook Sirius awake. He opened his eyes and looked up from the armchair to see Remus clutching two bags of food.

"Busy day?"

"Exhausting," Sirius said with a straight face.

Remus raised an amused eyebrow and went through to the kitchen where he started to unload the shopping. Sirius followed him, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a large meat pie.

"For tomorrow evening," Remus said firmly and set about preparing a dinner of pork chops.

As they ate, Remus skirted neatly round most of Sirius's questions about the Ministry but made the mistake of mentioning Meredith. He cursed mentally as soon as he had said her name: true to form, Sirius immediately pounced and demanded details. Remus sighed and outlined the medical exam: Sirius hit the roof.

"Unbelievable, Moony! What's going on at the Ministry? They're supposed to be a voice of reason and guidance. Have they still got that golden statue of peace and harmony?"

Remus nodded.

"It's about time they lived up to what they preach. They seem determined to alienate the people they're supposed to help."

"Padfoot, it's just a whim. Something else will come up soon and all this will die down-"

"That doesn't make it right! Look, Moony, you choose to bend, to go along with their ridiculous red tape but there'll come a point when even you can't bend any further. Everyone has their breaking point."

Remus said nothing. He remembered the cage.

Sirius went on, his voice gentle:

"Look, Remus, I don't know how you can stand the prejudice and ignorance you have to deal with - I mean, you're a funny, kind, intelligent person-"

"Who turns into a monster once a month-"

"Listen!" Sirius banged his fist on the table. "What I'm saying is you've developed this well of tolerance and forgiveness but there are others out there who don't have your forbearance. The Ministry is mad to try and drive further rifts between werewolves and the wizarding community. There are those who won't take this lying down…"

He stopped and gave a weary smile.

"OK, end of the rant. For now."

As the hour of moonrise approached, Remus became quieter. Sirius suddenly wondered if he wanted to be on his own and said so.

Remus laughed.

"I'll be glad of your company. It'll be like old times."

He ran himself a bowl of water and placed it on the floor by the fireplace.

"It's hard to turn a tap with paws," he explained dryly.

They sat chatting for a while then Remus got to his feet and said: "It's time."

Sirius turned away, wanting to give Remus some privacy. He changed into Padfoot and only glanced back at his friend when the pull of the moon had him firmly in its grasp.

Remus was on all fours, thick grey fur covering his body, his hands and feet curling into paws. His face was no longer humanly recognisable. The wolf's jaws dropped open and Sirius saw the rows of sharp, deadly teeth that would maul human prey if given the chance.

Then the wolf's eyes opened and Sirius caught his breath. The wolf's eyes he remembered were those of a hunter: brightly golden, wary, calculating. These were Moony's own eyes looking back at him: Moony's eyes with their intelligence and their compassion.

_Wolfsbane potion,_ he told himself.

The wolf trotted over and nudged noses with Padfoot who responded with a wag of the tail and a bark before remembering the neighbours. Then the wolf leapt up on one armchair and curled up in a ball. Sirius leapt up on the other and followed suit. He fell asleep with Moony's gaze still on him.


	6. Chapter 6 The Healing Process

Chapter Six: THE HEALING PROCESS

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

A/N Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far - it's been lovely to read that you're enjoying the story. This is my last post of 2006 so I will update in the New Year. Merry Christmas!

A loud knocking at the front door woke Sirius. Disorientated, he opened his eyes. Was it the Ministry? Had the Aurors found him?

"Dearie! Are you there?" Peggy bellowed through the letterbox.

Giving an inward sigh of relief, he laid as flat as he could in the chair, noticing as he did so that the other chair was empty.

After further unsuccessful attempts to get a response, Peggy gave up and moved on. Slipping out of the chair, he turned back into human form and went in search of Remus.

He found him asleep in bed, looking like death warmed up, an empty chocolate bar wrapper on the bedside table. The morning light fell across his pale face and looking outside, Sirius was pleased to see the weather had broken. At least the temperature would be bearable.

Remus stirred and blinked awake.

"You look awful," Sirius pointed out helpfully.

Remus gave a tired smile. "Diplomacy was never your strong point, Padfoot. Transforming is the same as it ever was. Only nowadays I don't have the worry of losing my mind."

Sirius lingered awkwardly in the doorway.

"Do you want me to go?"

Remus shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be much company for a while but I'd like you here. It's…reassuring."

Sirius perched on the edge of the bed.

"Tell me about your adventures with Buckbeak," Remus instructed.

Sirius began at the beginning. His escape from Hogwarts, flying across miles of empty sky, tasting real freedom now that others knew his innocence. He described the week or so spent hiding around Great Britain, allowing Muggles to glimpse him, so that the Dementors would be sent away from Hogwarts.

"Then we flew south," he said and talked of warm breezes and blue lagoons, of shady palm trees and white-gold sand.

"Sirius Crusoe," Remus muttered cryptically. His eyes had fallen shut but Sirius did not stop speaking until he was certain Remus had drifted off.

It was a few hours later when Remus awoke again. Sirius was still sat at the end of his bed, a stack of old _Daily Prophet_s at his feet.

"Wish I'd found these yesterday," he grumbled, leafing through one of the papers.

"It's all old news."

"I notice it's all old news about me and my whereabouts," Sirius replied. "I'm enjoying finding out how far from the truth the media were. Are, in fact."

Remus smiled. "Do you want some lunch?"

Sirius got to his feet at once. "I'll make it."

He cast around for a suitable dish. "Soup. I'll make soup."

Exhausted though he was, Remus chuckled.

"When was the last time - no…" he corrected himself. "When have you ever prepared a meal, Padfoot?"

Sirius bristled.

"I'm perfectly capable," he announced and took himself off to the kitchen ignoring the weak laughter behind him.

He hated to admit it but Remus was right as usual. Washing up, laying a fire, cleaning…those had been chores ascribed by way of punishment at Grimmauld Place. He scowled to himself; doing the work of a house-elf had been seen as one of the worst humiliations a Black could suffer. He had never had to cook, though. Probably because his parents were aware that the meals would have ended up inedible or sabotaged.

He grabbed the bag of vegetables. How hard could it be?

Some time later, he woke Remus with a loud "Grub's up!".

Remus propped himself up and took charge of the tray on which was balanced a bowl. He glanced at Sirius beaming triumphantly and picked up a spoon. He tried to identify the contents: hot water; chunks of potato; pieces of carrot; slices of onion; and something else…He pushed aside a carrot top and ignored the onion skin floating on the surface of the liquid, conscious that Sirius was watching him. He decided on a lump of potato, grateful that it had at least been peeled.

He put the spoonful in his mouth and his eyes widened with alarm. As delicately as he could, he removed the offending vegetable.

"How did you make this soup, Padfoot?" he asked slowly.

"Boiled some water, chopped up some veg and threw it in," came the mulish answer.

"What did you use for stock?"

"Stock?"

"And seasoning?"

"Seasoning?"

"And how long did you cook the vegetables?"

"How long…?" Sirius grabbed the spoon and tried a piece of potato. He immediately spat it out.

"It's raw!" he said.

"I know," Remus agreed mildly. "I've already tried it."

Anger and frustration flitted across Sirius's face before he saw how hard Remus was trying not to laugh and the absurdity of it all struck him. He grinned.

"What else did you put in here, Sirius, apart from potato, onion and carrot?" Remus peered into the bowl at the substance that defied identification.

"Bread. You have bits of bread in soup." He had been pretty sure on this point.

"You have bread _with_ soup or you have croutons…" Remus shook his head. "Not that I want to sound ungrateful but a cheese sandwich would be marvellous."

Sirius gave a rueful sigh. "Alright. I guess I can't ruin that."

"Go on down. I'll dress and join you."

After lunch, they sat in the front room, Remus having regained enough strength to return the favour and answer Sirius's questions.

"What was it like going back to Hogwarts?"

Remus considered. "Well, it was smaller than I remembered but I think that's all to do with a child's perspective-"

"I meant with Dumbledore and the others."

"None of them had changed. Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall…they wanted me to call them by their first names but try as I might I could never call Dumbledore anything other than 'Headmaster' or 'sir'. I had to pluck up a bit of courage to call McGonagall, 'Minerva'. I kept thinking she'd slap me in detention for cheeking her."

"Tell me about Harry," Sirius said, making himself comfortable. "Everything."

Remus obliged. He started with the train journey to Hogwarts and the Dementor; seeing the unconscious Harry and being startled at his close resemblance to James, only to be given a further jolt of surprise when Harry came to and he found Lily's eyes looking up at him. He spoke of the first DADA lesson and the incident of the Boggart in the wardrobe followed by tea with Harry on the first Hogsmeade weekend.

When he reached the private Patronus lessons and the Quidditch match where he had first cast the spell successfully, Sirius interrupted.

"He can master a Patronus? At his age?"

"He can. In fact, he cast one so powerful that it drove back the Dementors the night Peter escaped. It's what saved your life." He briefly related what Harry had told him.

"Such strength…" Sirius marvelled.

"I know," Remus nodded. "And given the fact that he's faced down Voldemort, what, four times now including the encounter when he was a baby, you almost wonder what else he has the power to do."

Sirius let out a low whistle. "I'm glad he's on our side."

With impeccable timing, the light tap on the back door came as Sirius was laying the table and Remus was preparing dinner. As a precaution, Sirius changed into Padfoot while Remus opened the door.

Dumbledore stood there, looking tired but smiling.

"It's good to see you again, Remus."

"Come in, sir, and sit down," Remus stood aside to let Dumbledore enter and closed the door behind him.

"Sirius," Dumbledore acknowledged, eyes twinkling as Sirius regained human form and pulled out a chair for him.

"Sir," Sirius nodded. "How's Harry?"

"Recovering well," said Dumbledore, taking his seat. "He's lucky to have the support of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. But I hardly think I need to tell you two how valuable true friendship is."

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look then Remus put the vegetables on to boil and Sirius sat down opposite Dumbledore saying:

"But is he safe?"

"Well, he's safe for the moment at Hogwarts. Voldemort won't find it so easy to infiltrate the school at present. Also, I left him in the care of Minerva and Alastor, neither of whom are known for stupidity or lack of caution. Alastor is especially watchful after his recent experience."

"What about when the school breaks up for summer?" Remus wanted to know, taking a seat beside Sirius.

"I want the Order to meet before the end of term. We need to put measures in place to watch over Harry while he's at the Dursleys. I don't think it likely there will be an incident but better to err on the side of caution."

"I don't see why he has to go there at all," Sirius frowned. "I think he'd be safer in the wizarding world either at Hogwarts or with Ron Weasley's family or here…" his face brightened. "He could come and stay here with Remus and me."

"That's not possible, Sirius," Dumbledore said gently.

"Why not?" Sirius demanded. "You know that Remus and I would protect him with our lives."

"He'll be better off at Privet Drive-"

Sirius snorted. "Not from what I've heard. His life's miserable there!"

"Even so-"

"You don't trust us, do you? Do you really think we'd let any harm come to James's son?"

"It's not a question of trust-"

Sirius was on his feet now. "I'd die for that boy!"

"Sirius-"

"I'm his godfather! James and Lily gave me that honour. Do you really think I wouldn't-"

"Sirius, please!" This from Remus who put a warning hand on his arm.

Panting slightly with fury spent, he glanced at his friend then slowly sat down again and faced Dumbledore.

"Very well," he said coldly. "Tell me why the Muggles are a better choice to look after Harry."

Remus looked suddenly thoughtful. "It's something to do with Lily's relative, isn't it?"

Dumbledore nodded. "It was old magic that saved Harry the night his parents were killed. That same magic protects Harry now. Lily's sister offered him shelter and while he continues to live under her roof for at least part of the year, he is shielded from an attack by Voldemort."

He leaned forward, blue eyes focused intently on Sirius. "I have no doubts about you, Sirius. Either about your allegiance or your ability. I hope you believe me."

Mollified, Sirius nodded.

"Which reminds me," Dumbledore dug into his robes. "I have something for you."

He produced an oblong box which he pushed across the table. Puzzled, Sirius opened it and then caught his breath.

"For the task to come," Dumbledore said softly, "no wizard should be without his wand."

Sirius lifted out the wand with reverence and knew it immediately: burnished oak, twelve inches, with a dragon's heartstring. He shot a questioning look in Dumbledore's direction which was correctly interpreted and answered.

"Mr Ollivander is the soul of discretion."

Sirius nodded. His fingers closed round the wood and he felt the thrum of power in his fingertips ready to channel itself through the wand which quivered in anticipation. For the first time in a long time, he felt complete. He forced himself to exhale slowly and lay the wand down.

"Thank you, sir," he swallowed, not trusting himself to meet Dumbledore's gaze.

There was a pause and then Dumbledore spoke.

"I have not been unprepared for Voldemort's return. Ever since Harry encountered him in his first year at Hogwarts and we learned that his essence had survived, I have wondered when rather than if he would find a way back." He gave a sad smile. "Of course, other people do not want to face the truth."

"You mean, the Ministry," Remus said.

"I've tried speaking to Fudge again. It would be so much easier with the Ministry taking the lead," he sighed. "Unfortunately, he's firmly rooted in denial."

"Luckily," he went on, "we've stolen a march on Voldemort and his followers. Thanks to Harry, we know he's returned and we can be prepared. And we have new additions to our ranks. I estimate the first meeting of the Order will have nearly twenty people attending. Of course, we need to establish a Headquarters."

Remus threw a worried glance around the kitchen. Twenty people?

Dumbledore's eyes, however, were fixed on Sirius and slowly, as if in answer to an unspoken question, Sirius began to nod, a big grin lighting up his face. Remus was reminded of times when he was about to announce details of a prank.

"They'll turn in their graves…"

"Safe." It was a statement rather than a question from Dumbledore.

"As houses." Sirius agreed, eyes gleaming.

Bewildered, Remus looked from one to the other.

Sirius turned to him and smiled. "Tomorrow, Remus, I will introduce you to my loving family home."


	7. Chapter 7 Homecoming

Chapter Seven: HOMECOMING

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

It was morning; barely five o'clock. The streets were quite empty save for a few early-rising pigeons and in the innocent dawn light, it was difficult to believe that great evil lurked under the surface of this world, seeking ways to overwhelm it.

On the edge of a formerly fashionable square, two wizards stood, wands drawn, in front of a shabby black door.

Clutching a bag of provisions, Remus looked sideways at Sirius. He had been in a good mood the previous evening during the meal, but after Dumbledore had left, he had grown more and more pensive. It was easy to guess that the reason was the return to Grimmauld Place. Remus knew very little detail about Sirius's childhood but occasional remarks from James and odd things that Sirius had let slip had left him in no doubt that Sirius's family life had been far from happy. Looking at him now, he could see the tension etched in his face: it was obvious that he wasn't seeing the uncared-for façade but rather the house he had grown up in. Remus felt glad his friend did not have to face this alone.

"I haven't been back here since I was sixteen," Sirius said suddenly. "Not even when my father died. Mother died about four years after they put me in Azkaban." He gave a crooked smile. "They took delight in telling me. I think they thought I cared."

"Are you ready?" Remus asked softly.

Sirius nodded in answer to Remus's question but still stood silent and motionless, staring at the door, unblinking. Then stepping forward, he touched the silver doorknocker and muttered something in an archaic tongue. There was the sound of heavy locks and bolts being drawn back and then the door swung open. Remus peered past Sirius into a silent, dark maw of a hallway.

"Come on," Sirius said tersely. "Step carefully and touch nothing."

The door slammed shut behind them and Remus heard the locks and bolts re-engage. His eyes took a moment to re-adjust to the dim light filtering through the heavy curtains and then he could make out cobwebs and portraits and a staircase with some sort of trophies on the wall. The whole place smelt of dark magic; something almost tangible, swirling around them, ready to defend the house from intruders.

Sirius cast a concerned look over his shoulder.

"I should have left you outside, Moony. You're not family and that makes you fair game until I clear the first line of protection spells."

"Then clear them," Remus shrugged. "I'll wait here."

Sirius hesitated then made his mind up. Remus was able to handle himself.

"Stay here and stay alert," he instructed.

"_Lumos," _ he commanded and as his wand-tip flared into life, he made his way up the hall, disappearing into the shadows, muttering counter-spells as he went.

As he listened to Sirius's footsteps disappear, Remus shivered in spite of himself. Whatever he had imagined the Black family home to be, he had not anticipated this bleak horror. It felt as if centuries of darkness surrounded him, almost as if the house itself were imbued with the spirit of the Blacks over the ages.

Suddenly, he had the curious but very distinct sensation that he was being watched. He took a couple of steps forward, span round and caught his breath.

A huge portrait of a woman hung by the front door and a pair of malevolent eyes were fixed on him, seeing but not seeing. He couldn't quite make it out.

"_Lumos,"_ he said, unthinking and knew at once he had made a mistake.

The house sensed the spell and knew it was not cast by a Black; the woman in the picture suddenly focused on him and gave a triumphant smile. He backed away from her, uncertain what counter-measures he had triggered.

Suddenly, a pair of leathery hands fastened tightly round his neck. The bag went flying and he almost dropped his wand with shock. He tried to dislodge the fingers but they clung on tightly, digging into his throat with undoubted murderous intent.

And now there was a very real possibility that he was going to lose consciousness. _Sirius!_ he thought, willing his friend to return. His vision started to swim and he sank to his knees, still desperately fighting for air. He was dimly aware of bright light and a loud roar and something - someone - charging along the hall and then the hands disappeared and he was no longer choking but gulping empty air.

Struggling back to his feet, he saw Sirius, face contorted into vicious fury, holding his assailant up against the wall. Remus rubbed his throat and saw to his surprise that it was a house-elf.

"Creature!" he heard Sirius snarl. "This is my friend and a guest of the house. You will treat him accordingly!" These last words were announced to the house at large as well as the elf.

Remus could have sworn he heard a sigh of regret. The darkness seemed to ebb away as the house-elf flicked a sullen look in Remus's direction.

"Mistress would not approve of trespassers-"

Sirius shook him violently. "I am Master now and he is not a trespasser. You will behave with respect in front of him." He put his face close to the elf's. "Do we understand one another?"

Slowly, reluctantly, came a nod of acquiescence. Sirius straightened up and dropped him to the floor.

"Remus, this is Kreacher."

"Creature-?"

"Kreacher," Sirius repeated, spelling it for him. "My family has always had a nice line in christening house-elves."

He gave an exasperated sigh.

"I suppose it was too much to hope for that he would have died too."

He flicked his wand and the little gas-lamps lining the hall sputtered into life. Remus took in the worn carpet, the serpentine candelabra on the hall table and what looked like - no, he corrected himself - what was most certainly a troll's foot umbrella stand. As for the trophies going up the stairs…he gave a sharp intake of breath as he realised they were heads of house-elves.

Sirius watched him, a peculiar expression on his face. "Delightful, isn't it?"

Suddenly aware that his natural politeness had deserted him and that his features were writ large with incredulity and distaste, Remus flushed and with a struggle regained his composure.

"Sirius," he began, "I had no idea-"

"_Traitorous filth!"_

The words were shrieked with venomous passion making both Sirius and Remus jump.

"_Treacherous to your blood! False offspring! Deceiver!"_

It came from the portrait. Sirius grimaced.

"Let me introduce you to the harpy. Remus, this is my mother, Walburga Eris Black. Mother, this is Remus Lupin, a very good friend of mine here at my invitation. So that you know, like me he's against Voldemort, against the Death Eaters and has no time for pureblood nonsense."

Sirius let each of his barbs register before leaning in with the coup de grace:

"Unlike me, Remus is a werewolf."

Mrs Black's eyes widened. _"Unspeakable! Unclean half-breed! In my house…!" _She tailed off, speechless with horror.

"She'd be sending Kreacher for the smelling salts about now if she were alive," Sirius gave Remus a satisfied grin.

Remus gave an uncertain smile in return. Mrs Black seemed formidable even in death.

"_Why are you here?" _The words were spat out.

Sirius turned back to the portrait and Remus looked between mother and son, hatred twisting both faces ugly.

All of a sudden, Sirius's expression changed. He beamed. "I've come home."

Leaving Mrs Black to shriek herself back to sleep, they started with the basement kitchen.

It soon became apparent that it was going to be neither quick nor easy to cleanse the house. In the ten years since Mrs Black had passed away, Kreacher had let the household fall into disrepair. In addition, a number of nuisances had moved in. Boggarts and Doxies had taken up residence alongside Lethe Pools and Fire Imps: none of them difficult to deal with but all of them annoying.

"_Riddikulus,"_ Remus said, waving his wand at a Boggart moon which dutifully exploded.

"_Rid-rid-"_ he heard behind him and spun on his heel to see Sirius speechless in front of a Dementor.

"_Riddik-" _Sirius tried again but the word would not come out.

Swiftly, Remus stepped in front of him and dealt with the Boggart then turned back to his friend who was still staring fixedly at where the Dementor had been.

"Sirius?" he gripped his arm. "Sirius, it's OK."

Sirius shook himself and swallowed. "It's changed," he muttered dully.

_Of course! _Remus thought, remembering their DADA classes from so long ago. Sirius's Boggart had always taken the form of his father. For a long time, Remus had thought this a straightforward image; after all, other students were also in fear of one parent or another. It took a while before he understood that what Sirius was really afraid of was turning into his father.

"Is it because of Azkaban?" he asked in a low voice.

"No." Sirius's voice was barely above a whisper. "It's that night at Hogwarts."

His voice began to rise: "I can hear them start to gather around me. And then Harry's there and they're coming for him too and I can't stop them, Remus, I can't stop them!"

He pushed his hands through his hair and gave a bitter bark of laughter.

"To think last night I was trying to persuade Dumbledore that Harry would be safe with me. Some protector I am!"

The teacher in Remus took over.

"Look, we have to handle this on two levels. Number one, you need to make that Boggart ridiculous and number two, in order to defeat a real Dementor, you need to focus on a happy memory."

Sirius laughed mirthlessly. "Lily and James dying? Wormtail's betrayal? My time in Azkaban?"

"Come on, Sirius." Remus was not in the mood to indulge sour humour. "You can do better than that."

Sirius was silent for a moment then said:

"Before I went into Azkaban, it was James and Lily's wedding. Then Harry's christening. But those days seem so far away…"

"Then find something closer."

_Something closer…_Slowly, Sirius nodded. He looked up at Remus.

"Flying a Hippogriff is a tremendous feeling, you know. That's something I could use. But I'm remembering our conversation the other night. What makes me happiest is that Harry and you know I'm innocent. I don't think any Dementor can overcome that."

"And the Boggart?"

Sirius gave a wicked smile.

"Let's find one."

He pulled open a few cupboard doors and a Boggart/Dementor duly appeared.

"_Riddikulus!" _Sirius roared and the Dementor's hood flew back to reveal a totally bald Snape.

Remus gave a startled guffaw and Sirius chuckled. The Boggart disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"I so hope I get to practise that in front of Snivellus."

"We're supposed to be on the same side," Remus chided him.

Sirius's grin widened. "That means he won't be able to retaliate."

Remus sighed. Building bridges would never be Sirius's forte.


	8. Chapter 8 Past and Future

Chapter Eight: Past and Future

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

It was early afternoon before they had cleared the large kitchen of undesirables. After a hastily made lunch, they left a grumbling Kreacher with instructions to clean out the fireplace and to start cleaning the cupboards.

"Not that he'll do a good job of it," Sirius remarked, "but at least he'll be occupied."

After an unsuccessful attempt to remove Mrs Black's portrait - "probably used a Permanent Sticking Charm," Sirius grunted - they settled for tugging across the limp black drapes that hung either side of the picture and moved on upstairs.

They worked solidly on the bedrooms and by early evening had cleared most of the floor.

Sirius pushed open one of the few remaining doors on the floor, hesitated and turned to Remus:

"Would you mind if I did this one by myself? It's my old room and I…"

"No problem, I'll carry on next door, " Remus said and disappeared.

Sirius stood in the doorway and slowly exhaled. When he had left home at sixteen, his parents had stripped his room bare: they had thrown out his clothes, his books, every personal possession. All that was left standing was his bed, a wardrobe, an empty bookcase and his old desk and chair.

He pulled the chair out and sat down heavily. He had been dreading coming back home but having Remus there with him had helped. Now he was alone in a place that had been his refuge, his sanctuary, for so many years and the memories were flooding through him. He had been happy sometimes, he supposed. Probably when he was younger, before he fully understood what it meant to be a Black.

Steadying himself, he opened the desk drawer, wand at the ready. Nothing. He started to smile with relief. Something at the back of the drawer caught his eye and he reached in and pulled it free. It was a small covered oval. Sirius paused, recognising it. The last summer he had been here, his mother had commissioned miniatures of Regulus and himself. He had destroyed his own picture after a massive argument. That meant this was…He opened the cover and looked down at the painting of his younger brother.

Regulus was curled up in a chair, his eyes closed, with a book resting on his chest. He blinked up at Sirius and stretched himself out languorously like a cat arching its back.

"Hello, Sirius," he said. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"Hello, little brother," Sirius said, his tone gentle.

Regulus squinted up at him. "You look old," he said with the directness that Sirius remembered.

"I am old," Sirius admitted.

"Well, you haven't aged well," Regulus continued. "I expect I am much better looking. Mother always said I was more handsome."

Sirius smiled sadly. "Yes, she did."

Regulus peered around the room. "Where are all your things?"

Sirius hesitated. What point was there in explaining events to a picture of his thirteen year old brother? A picture whose knowledge stopped at those thirteen years, long before Voldemort and the First War, long before Death Eaters, long before his own death. This was Regulus as he had known him in childhood: someone to play with…someone to fight with…someone he'd cared for. The only relationship he had been sorry to leave behind when he'd moved out.

"It's being redecorated," Sirius said eventually. "That's why it's so empty."

Regulus took in the information and shrugged. He looked up at Sirius again.

"Didn't you want to change it? Is that why you're crying?"

Sirius wiped the tear off his cheek with a rough movement.

"We'll talk later," he said and scooped the portrait up and into his pocket. He pushed his emotions to one side and advanced on the wardrobe, ready to deal with whatever Boggarts or Doxies lay within.

Having left Sirius, Remus had entered a small box-room with trunks and cupboards which had obviously been used for storage.

He opened up one of the cupboard doors and quickly ducked as a group of Fire Imps lit up and sent a scorching burst of flame in his direction.

"_Aguamenti!" _Remus flicked his wand and doused the cluster of Fire Imps in water. There was an indignant "pop" as they disappeared in search of a less hostile environment.

He stepped back and inadvertently trod in a small dark spot of magic of surprising depth; a Lethe Pool. At once, he could feel the tendrils of memories start to knot their way through his body, twining into his very being with frightening ease.

He tried to focus his mind on the simple counter curse - "_Recordato_" - together with a firm memory of his own but he was tired now and this particular Pool tenacious. He felt his consciousness slipping into warm, comforting oblivion and he slid in a heap to the floor.

Now his head was filled with visions of a dungeon he had never seen. A man in filthy robes lay manacled by the neck to the wall. As he watched, the man lifted his head and he saw himself…and now he was staring out through the man's eyes, through the bars, with the hopelessness of one who did not expect freedom.

"_Fight it!" _some part of him urged. _"You know how Lethe Pools work! They give you a memory they've taken from someone else and make it real, so real that you can't escape, so real that it becomes the truth! Find a truth within yourself and use it!"_

A truth…he forced himself to concentrate. Something clear, something to hang on to and lift himself out of this nightmare. A myriad of possibilities suffused him - the bite, losing James and Lily, the cage at the Ministry - but strong through they were, none seemed positive enough to counter the false memory successfully. He felt the Lethe Pool eagerly fastening on to his core consciousness, seeking to leech his own memories ready to use them on its next victim.

"_Come on!" _he told himself angrily, aware that every moment the Lethe Pool's influence was expanding, controlling his mind and body. Even now, he was not able to regain the reality of Grimmauld Place: the dungeon had replaced fact. He could feel the stone cold floor beneath him, could smell the mustiness of the prison, could tell that daylight had long since drained away to a dim gloom.

_Enough! You're still in the room at Grimmauld Place! _He was in danger, he knew, of becoming an onlooker, separated from his body: the Pool had no need for the tangible. It fed off thoughts and remembrances.

Already he was drifting. Easier to drift than to struggle….easier to accept a new truth than battle for an old one…what did identity matter? _It mattered! It mattered! _He tried to see past the illusion but it was well-established now. He could make out stone stairs through the bars leading to who knew where; could hear footsteps of unseen people - gaolers, maybe, or other prisoners; could feel his body aching and knew it was through ill treatment. He could feel the pain in his shoulders, the bruising across his back and then - agony!

With a gasp, he sat bolt upright, eyes wide open.

"What…?"

"Moony! Stay with me!"

_Moony…_he knew that word…_Moony, Wormtail…_

"Padfoot!" He choked out the name.

Sirius was kneeling beside him. "Are you OK? Do you know where you are?"

The dungeon was fading away rapidly as a dream. He was back on the floor of the small bedroom at Grimmauld Place. With an angry wave of his wand he banished the Pool.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Careless of me."

"No," Sirius corrected, "I wasn't thinking. We're both tired and this place just drains your strength. We've done enough for today; let's start again in the morning."

Remus smiled acknowledgement, made to stand up and winced. He pushed up his left sleeve and raised his eyebrows at the darkening bruise.

"I had to get your attention somehow," Sirius said hurriedly. "You were pretty deep in that Pool, you know."

Remus waved away his apology. "You're forgiven. Anything's better than being trapped in someone else's nightmare."

They went down to the kitchen to find Kreacher had made a cursory attempt at cleaning and was now nowhere to be seen.

They ate a makeshift meal and then Sirius disappeared full of mystery only to return, clutching a dusty bottle.

"Nothing but the best for my father," he grinned. "You'll never have tasted Firewhisky like this before, Moony."

He poured two glasses and they sat at the table, each momentarily lost in their thoughts.

Remus broke the silence.

"It must have been…difficult…for you growing up here."

Sirius smiled down into his drink.

"When you grow up, you think every family's the same. You just don't know any different. I thought everyone beheaded their house-elves and put them on the wall."

He took a sip and went on:

"I think I was six and I was out with my mother. A little girl fell over and I helped her up. Mother grabbed my arm and slapped me." His hand went absent-mindedly to his left cheek. "I was told never to touch anyone that might not be a pureblood for fear of contamination."

"I kept asking 'Why?' - it must have driven them crazy. Regulus and I had a private tutor, you know, before Hogwarts."

Remus smiled. "It could have been me."

"He was very much _not_ you!" Sirius snorted. "His name was Ozymandias Cartwright. Some fourth son of a pureblood family that had fallen on hard times. He loved the idea of working for the Blacks. Kept reinforcing the idea that we were superior to other wizarding families. Mother adored him."

"What about your father?"

Sirius closed his eyes.

'_Stand still, boy, hold out your hand.'_

_And he'd stood there, hand outstretched, palm upward, looking into his father's eyes as the dragonhide belt had come down hard. Once, twice, three times…he lost count, determined as he was not to cry even when the buckle caught him and split the skin. He bit his lip and continued to try and outstare his father, rage keeping him silent just as it spurred his father on._

_The pain was becoming unbearable. It washed over him and he swayed momentarily on his feet. The movement seemed to satisfy his father who stopped the punishment and looked down at his son's bloody palm._

"_Go and get yourself cleaned up, boy. Remember why this happened."_

_Oh, he'd remember all right. It happened because he had the misfortune to be born into this family; a family where one never asked "why", one just accepted._

_He'd pushed open his bedroom door to find Regulus curled up with a book on his bed. He had glanced at Sirius's palm and raised an eyebrow._

"_Why don't you just cry? He doesn't hit you as hard and he stops a lot sooner."_

_Sirius said nothing. He fished in a drawer and found a large, clean handkerchief._

"_I should wash your hand first," Regulus yawned. "Otherwise the blood will stick."_

"_When I want your advice, I'll ask for it," Sirius said tightly. "When you've quite finished with my book…"_

_He snatched it out of Regulus's hands. His brother gave a languid shrug, got to his feet and made his way to the door. He paused and looked back at Sirius._

"_There's some ointment in the kitchen. Do you want me to get Kreacher to bring it to you?"_

"_No!" Sirius barked. The last thing he wanted was Kreacher, eyes gleaming with schadenfreude, looking on._

"_Suit yourself." _

Sirius shook himself. He tried to give an answer.

"I liked to think that father and I were very different. I suppose if I'm honest, we were quite alike. Both of us stubborn, sure we were right, refusing to tolerate fools gladly, impatient…I'd never have made it as a teacher, you know."

"I think with the right subject, you'd be a great teacher," Remus said sincerely.

Sirius's face flushed with pleasure.

"I mean it."

"You don't think I'm such an insufferable, demanding git, then."

"Oh, I don't disagree with your self-analysis," Remus replied smoothly, ducking to avoid a tea-towel thrown in his direction, "but if you could…subdue…your reckless side, pupils would benefit from the passion and enthusiasm you'd bring to a lesson. The first rule of being a good teacher is loving the subject you teach. If you don't, kids will find you out. They're smart like that."

Sirius frowned. "What could I teach?"

A few irreverent answers hovered on Remus's lips but he bit back on them. "What did you enjoy learning about?"

"Quidditch…transfiguration…" he paused. "I liked transfiguration even before we figured out the Animagus spell..."

His unfocused gaze told Remus that he was busy remembering lessons with McGonagall and imagining life leading Transfiguration classes. Remus said nothing. They never discussed Sirius's long-term plans: his hand-to-mouth existence as a fugitive and the daily threat of capture did not yield that luxury. Still, it pleased him that for a few moments at least, he had offered Sirius a vision of a future, even if it wasn't a route he decided to take.

Suddenly, Sirius leaned forward and raised his glass.

"A toast. To a new beginning…"

"…and old friends," Remus finished.

This was definitely something to drink to.


	9. Chapter 9 Keeping Secrets

Chapter Nine: KEEPING SECRETS

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

Remus rose early and found Sirius already downstairs in the kitchen, staring down at a small object. He started to pocket it when he realised Remus was there then seemed to change his mind and laid it on the table in front of him.

"I found it yesterday," he said as Remus sat down opposite him. "It's a picture of Regulus when he was young."

Remus remembered Regulus. Nearly as tall as Sirius with the same dark hair but slimmer in build.

"He wasn't all black, you know," Sirius grinned mirthlessly at his own pun. "He just liked the finer things in life that privilege and status bring. He used to bend with whatever the prevailing wind was so that he could have an easy life. Early on, he learnt what he had to do and say to please our parents and he was just the same at Hogwarts. When he joined the Death Eaters, it was because it seemed to be some sort of fashionable club. He didn't know what he was getting into…he certainly didn't sign up for murder."

He paused, lost in memory.

_Hurrying home in the twilight, he'd almost tripped over him sitting on his doorstep. _

"_Regulus?" he'd asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"_

_And then he'd seen his brother's white face and didn't bother with further questions. He unlocked the door and pushed him inside and into an armchair in his lounge. He poured a glass of Firewhisky and put it into Regulus's hands. _

"_What's wrong?" he asked._

_Regulus said nothing. Then he drained the glass in one swift movement and started to cough. Sirius made to pat him on the back but Regulus waved him away._

"_I'm alright," he managed._

"_You're far from that," Sirius said, kneeling down beside him. "What's happened?"_

_Regulus swallowed. When he spoke, it was so quietly that Sirius had to strain to catch what he said._

"_They had a hunt."_

"_A hunt?" Sirius repeated. "What do you mean?"_

_Regulus looked as if the last thing he wanted to do was elaborate but Sirius stared him out and he went on._

"_We had a meeting. Just ourselves…the Dark Lord wasn't present. We ate and drank and then some of the others opened a door and brought these five people into the room. They said they weren't purebloods and that they should be taught a lesson."_

_He broke off and looked up at Sirius._

"_I knew one of them. Alison Barleythorpe. She was a Hufflepuff in my year at Hogwarts. She was so frightened. She kept looking round the room and even though we were wearing masks, I think she recognised me. She kept looking at me…pleading with her eyes…"_

_He screwed up his eyes as if trying to erase the memory._

"_They started to use the Cruciatus Curse on them. Everyone was laughing. I just felt sick. I wanted to stop them, Sirius, I wanted to say something and stop them but I couldn't. I just froze. And then when they got bored of that, they said to them 'run and hide'. They let them go and they counted to ten and we all went after them. I thought if I could find Alison, maybe I could help her to get away…"_

"_Did you find her?"_

_Regulus nodded. _

"_But one of the others had been following me," he said dully. "When I pulled her free, this other Death Eater squealed with glee."_

_He stopped. Sirius waited._

"_And then she cast the Avada Kedavra spell."_

"_Alison did?" Sirius was confused._

"_No, the Death Eater!" Regulus said impatiently. "It was a woman."_

_He hesitated and then added:_

"_It sounded like Bella."_

"_Bellatrix?" _

_Regulus nodded._

"_Oh, Sirius," he implored. "I don't know what to do!"_

_Sirius gripped him by the shoulders._

"_Listen to me, Regulus, you know exactly what to do!"_

"_I don't think the Dark Lord can know about what happens in his name--"_

_Sirius shook him._

"_Of course Voldemort knows!" he said, ignoring the wince that Regulus gave as he spoke the name. "This is what Voldemort is all about! This ridiculous notion that purebloods are superior! That they're some sort of elite, that they should be treated like royalty…"_

_He knew it was a mistake as soon as he'd said it. Regulus really did believe there was a difference. It was one thing they would never agree on. It was undoubtedly one of the things that made following Voldemort so appealing. Sirius could see the withdrawal in his brother's eyes and he knew he'd lost him. Still he had to make an effort._

"_Stay with me," Sirius pleaded. "I promise you I will help you. Stay here and I will protect you with every fibre of my being."_

_  
Regulus sighed. He started to rub his left forearm absentmindedly._

"_I can't, Sirius," he said, pulling himself free of his brother's grip and standing up. _

"_Why not?" Sirius demanded, getting to his feet also._

"_I think…I hope this was a one-off. Without the Dark Lord there, I think things just got out of hand. But I won't stand for them killing people."_

"_You fool!" Sirius snapped. "Do you think it's an optional extra? If you're a Death Eater it's what you're expected to do!"_

_Regulus shook his head. _

"_Not up till now it hasn't. I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt."_

_Sirius bit back on the fury inside him. He knew that arguing with Regulus would push his brother onto the opposite side out of contrariness if nothing else._

"_What if it does happen again?"_

_Regulus exhaled slowly._

"_Then I shall resign," he said simply. _

_Resign? Sirius had to stop himself from laughing. His brother had no idea what he was involved with…_who_ he was involved with…._

"_Listen," he said. "If you need to, you get a message to me. Wherever I am, I'll come for you. If you can't manage that, then try to get back to Grimmauld Place. There's ancient magic there and the house will protect its own."_

_Regulus nodded. _

"_Goodbye, Sirius. Thanks," he said and he was gone._

"It was the last time I saw him," Sirius said quietly. "I got the news that he'd been killed. I don't even know if he tried to find me. I don't know what happened."

He stared down at the covered painting.

"When I spoke to him yesterday, I felt…oh, I'm so angry at the damn waste of it all, Moony."

Remus reached across and squeezed his arm.

"There's never any sense in death. Losing someone before their time…it's always devastating."

He nodded at the painting.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know if I'm going to speak to him again," Sirius said slowly. "It just hurts too much." He picked up the small oval and put it in his pocket. "I am going to keep this safe though. Out of Kreacher's hands. Away from Mother."

Mid-morning brought Dumbledore as a visitor.

Remus sensed Sirius's anxiety as their former Headmaster stepped into the hall. He was waiting, Remus realised, for the look of disapprobation that he himself had let slip the previous day. The shame Sirius felt about his family background made him extremely sensitive to others' reactions.

Dumbledore, however, was his usual imperturbable self, treating a scowling Kreacher with courtesy on his way through to the kitchen and passing no judgment verbal or otherwise. Sirius visibly relaxed.

"Firstly, I've brought a somewhat grumpy Hippogriff with me," Dumbledore began. "I rather think he missed you, Sirius. I'm afraid I had to Stun him in order to cast the spell that allowed me to bring him with me but he should be easily restored to his normal self."

He plunged his hand into a pocket in his robes and brought out a handkerchief which he gently unfolded. Inside, lay a miniature Buckbeak. He was snoring and his hooves kept twitching.

"Dreaming of ferrets," Sirius grinned fondly, reaching out and reverently laying the handkerchief and its contents on the kitchen table. "I can't wait to introduce Kreacher to him. It'll be nice to have an ally in this place."

As Remus poured tea, Dumbledore got down to business.

"I should like to call the first meeting for tomorrow night. Term finishes on Friday and I want to set some measures in place by then."

"We'll be ready," Sirius said. "I'm not saying everywhere will be spick and span but we can use the kitchen. It's about the friendliest room in the place anyway."

"Excellent. One more thing, Sirius, with your permission, I should like the Fidelius Charm to be used to protect the Order's HQ. Since you will be based here, it will also protect you from discovery. The last thing we want is for you to be re-captured."

Sirius was silent remembering the last time the Charm had been used by the Order. It was supposed to keep Lily and James and Harry safe…

"Of course, sir."

He looked across at Remus. "Perhaps…?"

Dumbledore interrupted.

"Remus would be an excellent choice but it needs to be someone at the centre of the Order able to communicate with all members." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "I rather think that makes it me."

"Alright. What do we need?"

"Quills, ink and parchment."

Under Sirius's instruction, Kreacher reluctantly fetched the articles.

"I know you're both familiar with the theory of the Fidelius Charm," Dumbledore said, "have either of you ever used it?"

They both shook their heads.

"Then I would warn you that the casting of the spell can be rather draining."

Sirius thought briefly of Azkaban and his life on the run. Not to mention Remus's monthly agonies.

"I think we're up to it, sir," he said straight-faced.

"I don't doubt it," Dumbledore replied with a hint of a smile. "Just so that you're prepared."

He wrote in his neat script: "The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place" and bade the others do the same.

Then he gathered the papers together, produced his wand and held it above them. Eyes closed, his lips started to move silently.

As Remus and Sirius watched, the fresh ink lifted off the surface of the parchment and the very words themselves started to slowly intertwine in a dance before their eyes.

Gradually, their speed increased until they were no longer intelligible phrases but a swirl of black ink. Faster and faster the blur span, the ink particles now disintegrating into a sparkling transparency.

Suddenly, Dumbledore opened his mouth, took one deep breath and the glittering mass disappeared down his throat, embedding itself and the secret it carried in his very soul. Equally suddenly, he pitched forward headfirst on to the virgin parchment.

Sirius and Remus jumped up but before they could rush to his side, Dumbledore straightened up with a cough.

"I do apologise," he said mildly. "I am quite recovered."

He looked across the table at the pair of them and they slowly took their seats.

"What were we-?" Sirius frowned. "What were we talking about?"

He looked to Remus for help but his friend wore a similar look of consternation.

Dumbledore smiled, reached forward and wrote a sentence on two pieces of parchment then handed them one each.

"Read this to yourselves," he instructed. "The Order will convene tomorrow night. A time for reunion and revelation."

After he had left, Sirius carefully picked up the tiny sleeping Hippogriff.

"I'll just get Buckbeak settled then we can continue with the purge."

He reappeared smiling to himself.

Remus who had known Sirius far too long to trust that smile asked where he had left Buckbeak.

"Mother's bedroom," he replied dreamily. "I'm so looking forward to telling her."


	10. Chapter 10 The Old Order Changeth

Chapter Ten: "THE OLD ORDER CHANGETH…"

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

The following evening, they waited for the arrival of the Order members. The drapes had been firmly drawn across the portrait of Mrs Black and Kreacher had been banished to an upstairs drawing room with instructions to remove every cobweb.

After some discussion, Sirius had transformed into Padfoot: they decided it made sense to break the story of what had really happened first before an over-enthusiastic wizard took it upon themselves to rid the world of the notorious Sirius Black.

Dumbledore was first and the others followed in small groups. Emmeline arrived with a pink-faced witch Remus did not know. Knitting needle firmly holding her bun in place, Arabella Figg turned up with Mundungus. Judging by the martyred expression on Dung's face, Remus was certain Arabella had been chastising him over some illicit dealings or other.

A pair of Aurors came next. Remus started when he recognised Kingsley Shacklebolt who nodded at him in acknowledgement before introducing a young witch with a heart-shaped face and a shock of violet hair.

"This is Nymphadora Tonks," he said.

"It's just Tonks," she said, shooting a fierce look In Kingsley's direction.

Remus suppressed a smile with difficulty.

After Sturgis, Dedalus and Elphias, came Molly and Arthur Weasley with Bill, their eldest son. The final arrivals were Moody and Snape: the latter's eyes narrowing when he saw Padfoot. As Moody strode into the kitchen where the others had congregated, Snape lingered, looking down at Remus's outstretched hand with disdain.

"I see that even a reference from a Hogwarts headmaster is not enough to keep a werewolf in gainful employment, Lupin. Unless, of course, you choose to dress in rags."

Remus smiled. "There's always employment to be found, Severus, even for Dark Creatures. Even," he added with mild emphasis, "for those of us with a dark history."

Snape's lips thinned.

"I haven't forgotten what happened a year ago, Lupin. If I'd had my way, I'd have thrown Black to the Dementors and offered them you bound and gagged as a starter. Next time I'll make sure Potter and his cronies aren't around to save you."

Padfoot gave a low growl and inched forward, teeth bared.

Snape's lip curled.

"Touching," he said then swept past them into the kitchen.

Remus let out a sigh of exasperation and followed him, Padfoot at his heels.

They found the Order seated with expectant eyes turned towards Dumbledore. Padfoot headed underneath the table as Remus sat down next to the Hogwarts headmaster who took this as his cue to rise and address the meeting.

"Thank you, my friends, for coming here tonight," Dumbledore began.

He looked round the table.

"The original Order of the Phoenix was formed in the first fight. Alastor, Emmeline, Elphias, Arabella, Mundungus, Sturgis, Dedalus, Remus. You fought openly back then. We were also helped by others who provided invaluable information to our cause…Arthur, Severus."

Remus watched Arthur redden to his roots and Snape give a brusque nod of acknowledgement. _Who knew Snape was actually on our side?" _he mused.

"Today, we are joined by new colleagues. Please introduce yourselves. Molly, would you start?"

Molly Weasley went a little pink and began.

"I'm Molly, Arthur's wife. First time round, I wasn't able to take an active part in the war but this time I'm ready."

Bill smiled.

"Bill Weasley. I'm one of the seven reasons Mum was busy before."

"Hestia Jones," a pink-faced witch volunteered. "I work at St Mungo's and I…well, I was a very good friend of Alice Longbottom's."

Remus listened as Kingsley and Tonks introduced themselves, Kingsley's deep steady voice in contrast to the irreverent note in Tonks' voice. _She doesn't understand yet, _Remus thought suddenly. _She's like we were all those years ago…confident we could handle whatever the other side threw at us…she hasn't lost friends or seen the enemy up close…_

He shook himself out of his reverie. Dumbledore was speaking again.

"There are many who have been lost to Voldemort," he said, ignoring the intake of breath from some as he uttered the Dark Lord's name. "Let us take a moment to remember them."

_James and Lily,_ thought Remus, _and Peter…the Peter he had known._ Padfoot nudged his knee under the table and he knew that Sirius was thinking of them too.

"Before we begin, there is one more person who needs admission to our circle. One of those lost who has been found again. Perhaps, Remus, you would like to explain."

Remus got to his feet. He'd been rehearsing this speech all day. Curious faces turned towards him as he began to speak.

"Thirteen years ago, one of my best friends and his wife were killed by Voldemort; two other close friends were also lost to me. For twelve years, I believed Sirius Black was responsible for the betrayal and deaths of Lily and James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. It seemed to be the only explanation. Last year I discovered what really happened. It was Peter who was guilty of treachery; he faked his own death and left Sirius, who alone realised the truth, to face Azkaban. Sirius was innocent - _is _innocent."

There was a general murmur and then Dumbledore added:

"There are three other witnesses who will testify to the truth of what Remus has said: Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter."

At Harry's name, the murmur increased.

Padfoot stepped out from under the table and transformed into Sirius. Hestia gave a small shriek, her hand flying to her mouth. Kingsley nodded to himself. Tonks was beaming. Sirius gave her a lopsided grin in return and sat in the empty chair at Remus's side. He looked around the table at the expressions of shock and incredulity and the grin widened.

"Come on, everybody. Don't tell me this is the first time you've seen a dog turn into a wrongly accused serial killer."

It was Moody, of all people, who broke the silence with a loud guffaw. He rose out of his seat and came round the table to clap Sirius on the shoulder.

"Consider myself a good judge of character," he said gruffly. "Nothing surprised me more than you being a traitor. It's good to have you back."

And with that, Sirius found himself enveloped in a mass of hugs and well-wishes. Some of the Order stayed in their seats. Remus saw Hestia's eyes, still round like saucers, fixed on Sirius as if he were some sort of illusion. Molly had a wary expression while Arthur in contrast was smiling broadly. Snape studied the scene looking as if he had swallowed something very bitter and acrid; _Wolfsbane potion, maybe,_ thought Remus with sudden glee.

Dumbledore called the meeting back to order.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the purpose of this meeting is two-fold. In the first instance, as I am sure you will have guessed by the reformation of the Order, Voldemort has once again taken form. He did so by an ancient ritual involving the cause of his initial downfall, Harry Potter."

He described briefly the events that had unfolded in the graveyard provoking gasps and muttering. He let the horror sink in and then cleared his throat:

"Voldemort has made two mistakes. In his arrogance, he did not kill Harry when he had the chance and Harry escaped. We are now armed with the knowledge of Voldemort's return. Secondly, in his desire for what he sees as revenge, he used Harry's blood to complete the resurrection spell. This strengthens the link between them which began when Harry was a baby. It holds potential danger for Harry but much greater danger for Voldemort, something he does not realise or he would never have chosen Harry as sacrifice."

"However," he went on, "although Harry escaped, he is still vulnerable. Term breaks in two days' time and we need to make provision for his safety. The shelter of Lily's sister protects him from harm while he stays at Privet Drive and I cannot think that he will be attacked blatantly in the street. Still, Arabella, I would ask Mundungus and yourself to maintain surveillance duty. As Alastor is fond of saying, let constant vigilance be our watchword."

He looked round at the others.

"As for the link, it is important to find out as much as possible about how it will affect Harry. Remus, I would ask you to study the old scripts in your possession. There will be information beyond price hidden there."

Remus nodded.

Dumbledore continued around the table assigning duties: Elphias, whose work as a translator led him to communicate with his counterparts in other countries on a regular basis, was given the task of strengthening international ties by sounding out the depth of awareness and support of Voldemort's return; Charlie Weasley was volunteered similar duties in his absence; Snape was asked to continue with his mysterious work for the Order drawing a rather loud snort from Sirius; the others were asked to gather information on Voldemort's supporters from their various vantage points within the community.

"Time is of the essence," Dumbledore assured them. "Thanks to Harry we have more of a head-start than we should have. Let us not waste that precious advantage. Sirius has kindly agreed that we may use his house as our headquarters. It is here that all information should be channelled."

The formal part of the meeting over, the gathering broke into little groups. Remus found himself chatting to Hestia.

"Emmeline told me about the Order," she said. "She explained what you all went through the first time…the danger you all faced and the sacrifices that were made. I don't remember very much about that time. Just the darkness…"

"How do you know Alice?" Remus asked, interested in the friendship between this shy little witch and the extrovert wife of Frank Longbottom.

"She lived next-door to us. She was like a big sister to me. Very kind, very protective." She was silent for a moment. "I knew something had happened to her but I didn't know what. I'd started training at St Mungo's as a Healer's Assistant and then I found her there as a patient."

She looked up at Remus and he saw in her eyes something akin to the steel and fire he knew himself to possess.

"It was complete wickedness what happened to Alice and Frank. I want to help stop that ever happening again."

Over the other side of the room, Dumbledore was in conversation with Sirius.

"While I'm quite certain Harry is safe under Lily's sister's roof, I am concerned that others close to Harry may be targeted."

"His school friends?"

"Ron and Hermione," Dumbledore nodded. "And possibly, since they treat him like a member of the family, any of the Weasleys. What I would like to do is to find a safe place for them till the start of term at least."

Sirius smiled. "You're asking if they can stay here. Of course they can. The house is plenty big enough."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said sincerely. He added: "I will need to give Molly a reason for the move…"

Sirius shrugged. "You can tell her we need all the help we can get in cleaning through. It's certainly not a lie."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Molly, my dear," he called. "Might I have a word?"


	11. Chapter 11 Home and Truths

Chapter Eleven: "HOME AND TRUTHS"

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

A/N Apologies for the delay in updating. RL has been wild these last couple of months! I hope that those of you who were kind enough to let me know you were reading and enjoying this story before will forgive me the delay.

Over the next week, life at Grimmauld Place changed beyond all recognition. The Weasleys moved in, bringing noise, life and colour into the dour house. Having returned home to research the texts as Dumbledore had asked, Remus was glad Sirius had the distraction of the new arrivals even though Molly's self-appointed role as housekeeper and chief organiser did not sit easily with the last of the Blacks.

"It's my house," Sirius said through gritted teeth to Remus when the latter visited next. "My house and she's just taken charge…it's like I'm her personal house-elf."

Remus's lips twitched. "It can't be that bad."

"Arthur's fine and the kids are great. It's just-"

On cue, Molly's raised voice reached them. "Sirius, where are you? I need the keys to the cellar."

Remus stifled a snort of laughter. "A little discipline is good for your soul, Padfoot. Always said you needed a good woman to take you in hand."

Sirius rolled his eyes and disappeared.

Meetings of the Order continued on an informal basis. People called in to report snippets of gossip, reliable information and the general mood in the wizarding world. Sirius, who was the one constant, patiently took note of what was said, trying to sort the wheat from the chaff.

Remus watched him interacting with the others. With the older Order members, it was like he had never been away; flirting shamelessly with Emmeline who smilingly pronounced him a "wicked boy" and teasing Dedalus about his latest inventions. With the newer members, he was naturally close to Tonks and to Remus's surprise, appeared to have struck up quite a friendship with Kingsley. Certainly in the first couple of weeks following the inaugural Order meeting, Remus had come across the pair of them in deep discussion on more than one occasion.

"How are you feeling?" Remus asked Sirius as they sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, a pot of tea between them.

"Being back here? Frustrated...bored…like a prisoner all over again." Sirius gave his tea a vehement stir. "Dumbledore's insisting I don't leave the house. He says it's necessary – my safety, Harry's safety - but it's driving me crazy."

Remus sipped his tea thoughtfully. "It makes sense, Sirius."

"I know, I know," he growled. "It doesn't make it any easier to accept."

"It won't be forever," Remus offered. "And at least you're working as part of the Order again. You're the one person that everyone sees when they come here. That makes you the focus, it makes you -"

" - useful," Sirius conceded. "Yes, it's almost like old times. Same enemy, still life and death…" He hesitated.

"What is it?"

Sirius sighed. "I guess I hoped we'd win this war the first time round." He gave a sad half-smile.

There was a moment's silence and then Remus said simply. "I miss them too."

Any further conversation was curtailed by the kitchen door being flung open. They jumped up as a tearful Molly rushed in, sniffing into a large handkerchief. She looked taken aback to see Remus and Sirius there.

"Whatever's the matter, Molly?" Remus asked, wondering briefly if Sirius's temper had got the better of him once again.

"It's P-P-Percy," she managed, dissolving once more into sobs. "He's had a row with Arthur and now he's n-n-not talking to any of us!"

Percy…Remus remembered the Head Boy of Hogwarts. Serious, studious and running to pomposity. He was a complete contrast to the twins and Remus had marvelled a little that they had been related. Having had firsthand experience of Fred and George's irreverence, he was certain that Percy had suffered mightily at the hands of his younger brothers over the years.

"What's the row about, Molly?" he asked, sitting her down and motioning Sirius to pour her a cup of tea.

"P-P-Percy's works for Cornelius F-Fudge," she stammered. "I was so p-pleased when he got that job and now-" she disappeared into her hankie again.

Remus pursed his lips. His opinion of the Minister of Magic had never been high and Fudge's behaviour since Voldemort's return had done nothing to change that.

"He's siding with the M-Minister against Dumbledore," Molly said miserably. "He won't listen to Arthur, he won't listen to me..." She sipped the tea and slowly her sobs subsided.

Remus glanced at Sirius who was sitting with an awkward look on his face and then turned back to Molly.

"Percy's young. He's just confusing Ministry propaganda with the truth and he's certainly not the only one doing that. He'll come back to you, Molly.

"Do you think so?" Molly's face looked a little less doleful.

"I'm certain," Remus smiled. "I've seen how close your family is, Molly. It would take more than one falling-out to drive Percy away permanently."

Molly seemed comforted by the thought. She drew a deep breath and tucked her hankie away. "Right. Well, Hermione arrives today. I thought we'd put her in the little room at the front if that's alright, Sirius. It's next door to Ginny and I think the girls will like to be close together. It'll need airing, of course."

"Of course," Sirius agreed hurriedly and Molly bustled out of the room.

Once she had gone, Sirius turned to Remus.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Know just what to say?"

Remus smiled.

"It's nothing but the truth. I don't know any family closer than the Weasleys. I can't imagine anything splitting them up permanently."

He got to his feet.

"I'd better get back home. I have another chunk of text to work through before the Order meeting tomorrow. I'll see you then."

Remus arrived early for the meeting and almost fell over Dumbledore, Kingsley and Sirius in the hall.

"Good, you're here, Remus," Dumbledore said. "Kingsley has some news."

"About what?"

"Peabody and Christie," Kingsley said directly. "I understand that you've had one or two uncomfortable encounters with them."

Remus's mouth dropped open. He shot an angry glare at Sirius who reddened but held his gaze defiantly.

"Let's not stand in the hall," Dumbledore said. "Why don't we go downstairs and discuss this further? I understand that Molly and the children are upstairs helping Hermione settle in at present and we should have a few moments to ourselves before the others arrive."

As they moved through the hallway, Remus pulled Sirius to one side and hissed at him:

"Why did you tell Kingsley?"

"I'm not going to sit back and watch this, Moony!" Sirius hissed back. "If I could, I would challenge this on your behalf, but I can't!"

"Gentlemen…?" Dumbledore's voice called from the basement kitchen.

Remus pursed his lips.

"This is not over," he muttered.

As soon as Sirius and Remus had sat down at the table, Kingsley began.

"I've done some digging at the Ministry. What I've uncovered…well, it's not pretty."

"What do you mean?" Remus leaned forward, still angry with Sirius but intrigued in spite of himself.

"These two have their own agenda regarding werewolves with two objectives: experimentation and extermination."

"Experimentation?" Sirius repeated sharply.

Kingsley hesitated then said in a low voice:

"They're collecting data on a range of subjects. Stamina for one. They've had a werewolf transform in a tank which then fills with water to see how long he can stay afloat. And they've been trying to breed werewolves-"

"You can't! It's not naturally possible," Remus interrupted.

"There's nothing natural about what they're doing," Kingsley said darkly. "They're also working on a sort of anti-Wolfsbane potion."

"A what?" Dumbledore frowned.

"Something to bring the wolf's mind to the fore when a werewolf is in human form."

Remus looked at him in stunned silence.

"But why?" he asked eventually.

Kingsley gave a shrug.

"Because they can," he said quietly. "There's a whole list of different areas they're working on. They target werewolves with no close family or friends. No awkward questions if something goes wrong. Someone like you is ideal, Remus. You've no one close that they know about - indeed, the old friend they _do_ know about would hardly be in a position to defend you. You left Hogwarts under a cloud..."

He glanced across at Dumbledore.

"You might have been a deterrent, sir, but to be honest they're so busy at the Ministry trying to discredit you that they no longer care."

"I can't believe it," Remus said slowly. "Surely someone would speak out - expose this…"

"The Ministry never asks many questions about closed projects," Kingsley said. "And those they experiment on say nothing."

Remus opened his mouth and closed it again. Sirius caught his eye meaningfully and Remus inclined his head, his anger towards his friend dissipating. _Alright, Padfoot, you've made your point._

"And if an experiment does fail," Kingsley continued, "the subjects are disposed of."

"How?" This from Sirius.

Kingsley looked from one to the other. "Azkaban," he said heavily.

Remus's eyebrows shot skyward, unable to take in what he was hearing.

Sirius gave a sudden exclamation. "They were visiting Azkaban when I was there. This must have been going on for years…"

"It was on a small scale at first. They've grown bolder since they've found a sponsor in high places."

There was a silence which Remus broke.

"Umbridge," he said tightly.

"What do we do about it?" Sirius asked.

"What _can_ we do about it?" Remus corrected.

A crash from the hall accompanied by shrieks from Mrs Black announced the probable entrance of Tonks.

Dumbledore stood up. "Others are arriving, gentlemen. Let's continue this discussion after the meeting."


	12. Chapter 12 Yielding Place to New

Chapter Twelve: "…YIELDING PLACE TO NEW"

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

With the full Order assembled, Dumbledore introduced Hermione and the other newcomers – Fred, George, Ginny and Ron – then promptly asked them to leave. Remus saw the dismay writ large in their faces but none of them dared to disobey. He also spotted an exchange of looks between Fred and George which suggested that they would not take the exclusion lying down.

As Dumbledore went around the table asking each of them for a report, Remus's mind raced with what Kingsley had revealed. _Experimentation and extermination_, he thought, _and on such a scale…not just me…_

He forced himself to concentrate on Arabella's staccato sentences - "Harry's back with the Dursleys. I speak to him when I see him. He helps carry my shopping sometimes. Dung and I take it in turns to watch him. That's where Dung is now." – but his imagination refused to co-operate. Already he could see the cage, could see Peabody and Christie hovering outside, all smiles and clipboards, could see himself…alone…vulnerable…

He felt Sirius's eyes on him and shot him a quick glance. From the troubled expression on Sirius's face, he guessed that Padfoot was also having difficulty focusing on the meeting.

Snape was currently speaking.

"The Dark Lord has summoned his followers," he said quietly.

"No prizes for guessing how he knows that," Sirius said in Remus's ear.

Remus studied Snape's expression: there was something in it that he did not recognise. He puzzled for a moment and then realised with a start that it was weariness. Snape's face was usually animated even if it was with vengeful fury. Now he looked drained. Remus could not begin to guess what had caused the change.

"He has great expectation of success," Snape went on. "Even allowing for the fact that Potter has escaped him."

"Voldemort was always confident, over-confident even," Dumbledore nodded. "It is one of his flaws."

As Hestia started her account, Remus's thoughts turned back to Peabody and Christie. _Why? _he had asked: Kingsley's answer had been _Because they can._ _So was this simply about power? About targeting a minority group that couldn't and wouldn't answer back?_ _Or was it discovery and knowledge that drove them? _He pictured them standing outside the cage, their anticipation tangible…it was both, he decided.

He winced suddenly as Sirius kicked his ankle.

"Remus…?"

There was a mild reproof in Dumbledore's tone and he realised he had had to repeat himself.

"I was asking if you had been able to unlock any secrets in the course of your research."

"There are certain passages which hold real promise," Remus nodded, composing himself. "I need to examine some reference texts that are in the Museum of Antiquities but I have a contact there so that should not present a problem."

"Thank you, Remus. Elphias?"

The end of the meeting could not come quickly enough for Remus. As the other members said their farewells and the Weasleys disappeared to check on the children, Dumbledore, Kingsley and Sirius hung back.

When they were alone, Dumbledore picked up the conversation from where it had left off.

"The Ministry are fools to allow Christie and Peabody to perpetrate this. Their actions will drive werewolves underground and provide Voldemort with ready allies. We must tackle this on two fronts. Remus, we must reach out to the werewolf community. We need them to know that we find this abhorrent, that we will work to put an end to it and that the answer does not lie with Voldemort."

"I can get you names and addresses," Kingsley volunteered.

"I'll do what I can," Remus nodded.

"And, Kingsley," Dumbledore continued, "you must find a way to interrupt these abominations."

"I've spoken to Internal Affairs already," he said. He gave a hesitant glance in Remus's direction which Sirius caught.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"Internal Affairs is a different area of the Ministry and they won't move on this without definite proof."

"Surely the files are evidence enough?" Dumbledore frowned.

"They want to catch them in the act," Kingsley clarified reluctantly.

"Bait," Sirius said with sudden intuition. "They want Remus as bait."

Kingsley had the grace to look ashamed.

"If they call Remus-"

"When they call him," Sirius corrected, his voice hard.

"- we will be there to protect him. I've asked to be seconded for this assignment."

He turned to Remus.

"I'm afraid it will mean facing the cage again," he said confirming Remus's worst fears. "Peabody and Christie will doubtless have dreamt up some other test for the Wolfsbane potion. I promise you I will do all in my power to protect you."

Remus looked into his eyes.

"I trust you," he said simply.

Kingsley got to his feet.

"The next full moon falls at the end of next week. Let me know if –" he glanced at Sirius and corrected himself "when the Ministry contacts you."

"Thank you," Remus stood also and shook his hand. "I'll be in touch."

"Keep me informed also, Remus," Dumbledore asked. "I want to know if you're summoned."

As the door closed behind Kingsley and Dumbledore, Remus looked over at Sirius: his face was like a thundercloud.

"What's wrong?"

"The whole thing stinks, Moony! All of it. Peabody, Christie…Damn the Ministry! And they want you to go back there! Kingsley's so full of what they're going to do to protect you – they've not made a very good job of it so far!"

"I know your faith in the Ministry is understandably lacking," Remus smiled in spite of himself, "but there are good people there."

Sirius snorted.

"What if Kingsley's got it wrong and it's not the cage? What if this time they decide to cut you open or what if Internal Affairs don't quite rescue you in time…" he tailed off. "Just look me in the eyes and tell me you're OK with this."

Remus sighed. He looked at Sirius.

"Of course, I'm not OK. I can't think of anything I want to do least than go back to the Ministry. My skin crawls every time I think about the cage…every time I imagine Christie and his clipboard…every time I picture Peabody and his crocodile smile…"

He put his head back and exhaled slowly then looked up at Sirius again.

"But I can't ignore what's happening, Sirius. I can't sit back and not do anything about it. If I can act to put an end to it, I will."

Sirius saw the determination in his friend's face and sat down heavily opposite him.

"The full moon's at the end of next week. Just come back in one piece, Moony."


	13. Chapter 13 Waiting and Anticipating

Chapter Thirteen: WAITING AND ANTICIPATING

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

A/N I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's been kind enough to leave a review. They really encourage me to continue this story. I'm so glad that you're enjoying it!

Waiting for some sort of response, Remus surreptitiously stretched his shoulder muscles. The full moon was the next day and already, he could feel its pull.

"Are you quite sure?"

"I've checked against the reference texts and I'm positive. As you know, sir, the scar represents an indisputable physical link between Voldemort and Harry. It has lain dormant for many years but now, with Voldemort taking form again, it will strengthen. As to how it will affect Harry…"

He paused and checked his notes.

"Harry will start to experience things that Voldemort is experiencing. He may hear what Voldemort is hearing, see what he is seeing. He may even start to share his thoughts, his emotions."

Dumbledore sat back on Remus's settee, digesting the information. Remus was certain that his conclusions were exactly what Dumbledore had been expecting. He glanced over at the pile of texts, some his and a couple on grudging loan from the Museum of Antiquities courtesy of Pennyfeather. Cracking the enigmas within had been hard work but he had been glad of the opportunity to bury himself in something other than his own worries.

"It is an opportunity and a threat," Dumbledore said finally. "If Voldemort realises how powerful the link is, he will try to use it against us. It will provide him with exactly the sort of weapon that he is looking for. We cannot tell Harry. Ignorance will protect him."

Remus hesitated.

"If he knows, he may be able to protect himself better. And we may be able to…well…"

"Exploit it?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes shining brightly.

It sounded ugly. Remus flushed and nodded.

Dumbledore took a sip from his cup of tea then said:

"It is probable that Harry will start to realise the link exists anyway. But the longer he remains in ignorance, the longer Voldemort may also remain in the dark. It will buy us more time. And we may learn more indirectly than you might think."

He sipped his tea again.

"Severus has brought word that Voldemort's attention is consumed with obtaining an object from the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry."

Remus looked startled.

"What object?"

"I have a very good idea that he is looking for a prophecy. _The_ prophecy," he added with emphasis.

_The prophecy…_Remus exhaled. _He knew of it, of course. The prophecy that had driven Voldemort to single Harry out all those years ago. _

"I have asked Arthur for plans of the Ministry so that we can make sure we miss nothing. I have suggested that he also draw up a schedule of discreet surveillance on the Department of Mysteries. We need to make sure that we are aware of any attempt to secure the prophecy."

He finished his cup of tea and leaned forward, his eyes gimlet-blue.

"I'm not just here on Order business, Remus. I know the full moon is tomorrow. They've called you." It was more of a statement than a question.

Remus nodded slowly. The summons had arrived two days ago. He had pushed aside thoughts of what his next trip to the Ministry might hold and instead told himself to concentrate on finishing off the work on the texts. He had also avoided Grimmauld Place, not wanting to face Sirius who would want to discuss what lay in wait at the Ministry. Discussing it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Dumbledore's eyes bored into him and he suddenly felt as if he were back at Hogwarts being questioned about a particular piece of Marauding that he was desperate to hide. It was like an unspoken interrogation and Dumbledore suddenly sat upright as if he had come to a conclusion.

"Remus," he said gently, reaching forward and laying his hand on his arm. "I want you to know that I am outraged by what has happened to you and to others. I had no idea this was going on and it must end. It will end." He laid emphasis on the final three words.

Remus swallowed, unable to say anything.

Dumbledore sat back, pushing his fingertips together.

"You need to be prepared," he said. "Mentally and physically. How are you feeling?"

"I'm dreading it," Remus admitted, feeling the words dragged out of him.

"You do trust Kingsley?"

"Of course. And I know that whatever is going to happen, it will stop tomorrow."

Dumbledore studied him for a moment then said:

"Have you spoken to Sirius?"

Remus's silence was his answer.

"Go and see him this afternoon, Remus. It will help you."

Remus pushed the door to 12 Grimmauld Place shut behind him and prepared himself for the barrage of abuse from Mrs Black. He was thankful to find that her curtains were firmly closed.

Kreacher was sat on the bottom stair, his face wearing a sulky expression that Remus guessed had been caused by Sirius.

There were footsteps at the top of the stairs and then Sirius appeared. He stopped halfway down when he saw it was Remus.

"Arthur's at work and Molly's taken the kids to Diagon Alley," he said shortly. "If you've come to see me, then I'm up here with Buckbeak."

"Of course, I –" Remus began but Sirius had turned his back and was gone.

…_came to see you._ Remus completed the sentence to himself and frowned.

He shook his head and then climbed the stairs, squeezing past Kreacher who loudly muttered about how his mistress would have had him put down.

Sirius was with Buckbeak. Long since restored to full size, the Hippogriff had cheerfully taken up residence in Mrs Black's bedroom. One of the last times he had visited, Remus had witnessed Sirius denying access to and telling an exasperated Molly intent on a cleaning spree that Buckbeak had "redecorated it to his own liking"; "trashed it" he had confided to Remus when Molly was out of earshot.

Remus stood in the doorway. Buckbeak watched with a wary eye: some deep Hippogriff sense told him about the wolf within. Sirius was busy with a curry comb grooming Buckbeak's hindquarters.

"So did you get the summons from the Ministry?" he asked without looking round.

"Yes, I did."

"Did you let Kingsley know?" Still Sirius concentrated on Buckbeak.

"Yes." He had dispatched Amos the same day he had received the summons.

"And did you tell Dumbledore?"

"Yes."

"And when did you think you'd bother to tell me?" Buckbeak bridled a little as Sirius's brush strokes grew more heavy-handed.

"I'm sorry-" Remus began but Sirius let fly.

"In case you haven't noticed I am stuck in these four walls. I can't get out. I can't find out what's happening. I have to rely on the dribs and drabs of information that people bring. And I don't even get to choose my visitors. People come when they want to."

"I'm here now-"

"So for the last few days I have been waiting – waiting bloody patiently for me, if I do say so myself – for my friend to come and tell me whether or not he's got to go to the Ministry tomorrow. It's been driving me crazy."

"Sirius –"

"I just want to know what's going on, Remus. I don't think it's much to ask considering you are my oldest and closest friend. Are Peabody and Christie going to be torturing you tomorrow or not? Should I be picturing you curled up in an armchair at home or curled up on the floor of that cage, cowering from who knows what? I'm walking around this house wondering what they're going to do to you. Are they going to flay you so that Umbridge can have you as a rug in her office, or will they in fact go too far and leave you permanently maimed before Kingsley can save you - ow!"

He scowled at Buckbeak who had delivered a none-too-friendly nip in response to the aggressive brushing then turned and threw the curry comb at the wall.

He opened his mouth to continue his tirade then stopped, his rage dying in an instant. Remus was leaning against the door frame, his face pale, his eyes tight shut, rocking.

"Oh, Moony-"

He leapt across the room and grabbed Remus by the shoulders. A final, uncontrollable shudder ripped through Remus and then he opened his eyes and gradually focused on Sirius

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, oh, Moony, I'm so sorry," Sirius said with desperate apology.

"It's alright, Padfoot," Remus insisted, pulling free. "I'm alright."

"Not by any definition are you alright."

They looked in silence at each other and then Sirius said firmly: "You need a drink."

Downstairs in the kitchen, Sirius pushed a generous measure of Firewhisky into Remus's hand. He poured himself a glass and sat down opposite his friend.

"So, talk to me."

Remus took a large mouthful and swallowed, feeling the warmth of the liquid coat his throat.

"I thought this was all over," he said quietly. "I tried my best to bury the memories of the cage and Peabody and Christie – everything. I hoped I would never have to face them again."

He took another mouthful.

"Don't get me wrong. I know I have to go through with this. Like I said before, iIt's the only way to stop them. And I want to stop them. After what Kingsley told us, I want that very badly indeed."

His fingers closed round the glass tightly and he stared down at his drink.

"But…?" Sirius broke the silence.

"But…" Remus echoed with a grim smile, "the anticipation of what's going to happen is killing me. Those suggestions of yours upstairs?"

Sirius started to say something but Remus waved it away.

"I've thought about them. And worse. And now it's so close, Padfoot..,I can almost taste the adrenalin in my mouth. It's this bitter, metallic flavour and it's fear and self-preservation and panic all wrapped up together. I've got to go through with it, I want to go through with it but I don't know if I can. Dumbledore says I have to be prepared mentally and physically. I don't know if I'm brave enough."

He took another swig of Firewhisky.

Sirius looked at him in wry exasperation.

"With what you go through every month? You're brave enough, Moony. I think you're the bravest man I know."

Remus shook his head but Sirius pressed on.

"You'll be able to face whatever comes, Remus, I'm sure of it. It can't begin to compare to the pain of the change."

There was a silence which Sirius broke.

"Something else, Moony. You're innocent in this. But don't go into this thinking of yourself as a victim. Don't give them that edge."

He looked a little shame-faced. "I'm sorry about earlier. I just get a little crazy in here. I'm worried sick about what's going to happen tomorrow. I feel guilty that Internal Affairs want you as bait and not someone else. I feel frustrated as hell that it's going to be Kingsley orchestrating your rescue. It doesn't help that I can't help you."

He drained his glass and reached for the bottle but Remus shook his head.

"Not for me. I want a clear head for tomorrow."

He stood up.

"You do help me, Padfoot. You cared enough to dig deeper, to find out the truth. You care enough now to talk it through with me. That support – you can't imagine what it means to me."

Sirius smiled crookedly.

"Don't go getting sentimental on me."

Remus smiled back.

"Never."

Sirius grew serious again.

"As soon as you're out of there, you let me know. Never mind Dumbledore, never mind anyone else, you tell me."

"I promise."

And with that, he was gone.


	14. Chapter 14 Onset

Chapter Fourteen: ONSET

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

Remus looked down at the toast, hesitated then pushed it away. He knew he should eat but he couldn't bring himself to. His stomach felt as if it were a knotted rope. It had been as much as he could do to keep the Wolfsbane potion down.

He checked the time. He didn't need to leave the house for another hour but he stood up anyway. Sitting around and thinking about what was to come would be worse than just getting on with it.

Sirius pushed aside the plate of bacon and shook his head at his own stupidity at thinking he could eat. Kreacher snatched the plate away with a sly grin on his face.

"Master wonders what will happen to the unclean half-breed," he muttered loudly. "Will the filthy vermin survive the night?"

Sirius's fist banged down on the table.

"Listen to me, you miserable eavesdropper," he roared. "I don't care which part of the house you hide yourself away in today, but you make sure it is nowhere near me. Do you understand?"

The smirk slid from Kreacher's face.

"Kreacher will always obey Master's wishes," he said, bowing and backing out of the room.

As he went, Sirius heard him grumbling:

"Maybe the werewolf will be crucified and never set foot in the house again."

Sirius gritted his teeth. It was going to be a long day.

The morning was unusually chilly for July. As Remus walked out of his front door, he pulled his cloak a little tighter around himself but found he was still shivering. He pushed away the thought that it was nothing to do with the weather.

There were various routes to the Ministry but his feet took him down a path which he recognised as circuitous and he grimaced wryly to himself. Evidently his subconscious wasn't keen to get there.

He turned into the market square. The early morning traders had long since packed up and the stalls were being dismantled. As he picked his way carefully through the boxes and crates which lay strewn underfoot, he heard a familiar voice.

"Ooh, dearie! I haven't seen you for ages!"

He turned round and forced himself to acknowledge Peggy with a smile. She was clutching a bag brimming with stray vegetables.

"I thought you'd be on your rounds by now, Peggy," he said.

"I would be, dearie, but…" she jerked her head to the left and Remus followed her gaze.

A woman stood with her back to him. She seemed to be pleading with a couple of men taking down the stalls.

"She's lost her kiddy," Peggy confided hoarsely. "I'm helping her look for him."

The woman turned round and suddenly all thoughts of the Ministry vanished from Remus's head. It was Elinor Draper.

"Professor Lupin!" she exclaimed and rushed towards him. "Oh, Professor!"

She almost fell against him and he put out a hand to steady her. Her eyes were wild with anxiety.

"It's Thomas," she said raggedly. "He's gone missing."

Thomas Draper. A bright little youngster with a cherubic face and a mop of brown curls.

"Please help me, Professor," she begged. "I don't know what to do!"

"What happened?"

"We came to the market first thing. I was buying some carrots, I turned round and he was gone-" she broke off sobbing. "Oh, what am I going to do?"

Remus looked round the marketplace and thought about the labyrinthine streets beyond. There were numerous places an inquisitive child could disappear to: numerous places a child could be taken.

He caught up three large, white cabbage leaves from the ground and knocked the dust off them. Producing his wand, he muttered _"Imageo"_ and tapped each leaf.

"Close your eyes," he instructed Elinor, "and concentrate on Thomas's face."

Obediently, she shut her eyes and her brow furrowed with determination.

"Now, breathe out slowly."

She did so and he held up the leaves one at a time to catch her breath. As he did so, an image began to form on the leaves: the face of a small boy with curls.

Elinor opened her eyes and gave a cry.

"It's Thomas!"

"Take these," Remus said, giving each of them a cabbage leaf. "It won't do much good to produce these with Muggles but they will help show wizards and witches what Thomas looks like. Let's split up and meet back here in an hour."

Sirius shut the door to his old bedroom and sat down at the desk. He was certain Kreacher would do as he was told but old habits of privacy did hard. He fished out the locket and opened it up.

"Sirius!" Regulus sounded genuinely pleased to see him.

"Hello, again."

Regulus frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Sirius sighed. His brother was always able to read him.

"One of my friends is in danger. And he's got to face it alone. I can't help him."

Outside the door, Kreacher frowned. It sounded like Master was pouring out his heart to someone but he couldn't make out the words. And who was he talking to?

"Maybe Master's brain has softened," he said and hugged himself with delight.

Remus saw by Peggy and Elinor's faces as they approached that they had had as little joy as he had in discovering what had happened to Thomas.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. "No one's heard or seen anything."

"Sorry, dearie," Peggy echoed.

The tears welled up in Elinor's eyes.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered.

Remus drew a deep breath.

"First of all, go home. Maybe Thomas has got lost and someone has found him and he's told him where he lives-"

Elinor's eyes lit up.

"And they've taken him there! Oh, Professor, maybe!"

"If that's not the case, then contact the Ministry and report him missing. They'll have people scouring the area, co-ordinating a proper search."

Elinor nodded.

"Thank you, Professor, for everything. I'll go straightaway."

Remus looked at Peggy.

"I'm afraid I have another appointment. Can you walk back with her?"

"Of course." She linked her arm through Elinor's and carefully guided her away from the marketplace. "C'mon, dearie, let's get you back home."

Sirius's conversation with Regulus had been frustrating and reassuring at the same time. Regulus had been sympathetic but asked too many questions to which Sirius could not give an answer. In the end, he had snapped the locket shut in irritation and sought sanctuary elsewhere.

Now he sat with his head resting against a sleeping Buckbeak and listened to the squeals and raised voices on the landing below. He could make out some of the chatter. Apparently Hermione and Ginny had encountered some of Fred and George's practical joke "experiments". From what he had learned of Fred and George, Sirius doubted that this had in any way been accidental. He was certain, however, that Hermione and Ginny were quite capable of giving as good as they got.

He felt the Hippogriff's body rise and fall beneath him in a comforting fashion, almost like someone putting their arm round him and telling him everything was going to be alright.

He glanced over to the mantelpiece at the silver clock with its intricate serpentine legs that his father had given his mother on their fifteenth wedding anniversary. Remus must have arrived at the Ministry by now. Whatever was going to happen, it had started.


	15. Chapter 15 Up Close and Personal

Chapter Fifteen: UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

A/N: I just wanted to apologise for the haywire formatting of the last chapter. I did put proper paragraph breaks in but they disappeared when I uploaded the chapter and nothing I tried would bring them back! I do hope it wasn't too disorientating to read!

The waiting room was empty. Remus sat on the chair and tried to work out whether it had been purposely designed to be so uncomfortable. Having arrived at the Ministry four hours ago, he had battled his way through the bureaucracy of the forms and then had been collected, deposited and told to sit and wait. Unlike his last visit, there was no one else in the waiting room. He tried to guess how long he'd been there. It must have been half an hour at least. His stomach rumbled and he remembered that all it contained was Wolfsbane potion.

The potion had been a brilliant development in Remus's world and he had been pleasantly surprised when the Ministry had started issuing it at a subsidised rate. It made sense, he supposed. It was surely better for the Ministry to do what they could to ensure werewolves were curled up in armchairs rather than on the rampage.

Suddenly the door to the consulting room opened.

"Professor R J Lupin?"

Meredith stood there with a troubled face. As Remus approached, she gave him an abrupt nod.

"I'm sorry, RJ," she whispered, biting her lip.

Apprehensively, Remus entered the room. Behind the desk sat a beaming Peabody, sipping a cup of tea.

""Professor Lupin! How delightful to see you again."

Remus gave a nod of acknowledgement. He had not thought it possible that he could dislike Peabody any more than he already did but he found that he was mistaken. Kingsley's revelation about Peabody's schedule of experiments had moved the Ministry official in Remus's mind from a cruel and irritating civil servant to an entirely higher plane of viciousness.

"This month we've selected a handful of examinees for some further tests. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting but Healer Johnson here has been debating with me the need for these."

Remus flashed a glance at Meredith: he could see the unhappiness in her eyes. She must have been arguing with Peabody for some time.

"However, I've explained to Healer Johnson that while I consider the tests necessary, I don't consider it necessary that they're carried out by a specific healer."

He realised that Meredith had tried to fight this, tried so hard that Peabody had threatened to replace her. And she had stayed. Stayed for him. He swallowed and forced himself to stay calm.

"What sort of tests?" he asked wishing his voice were not quite so hoarse.

"Nothing too taxing," Peabody assured him. "I'm sure you'll measure up."

He remembered what Meredith had told him last time. The tests were stalling tactics, designed to keep him at the Ministry longer than he should be; designed to keep him there so that he would not be able to make it back home in time to transform; designed to keep him there for the cage.

Meredith gestured to a screen in the corner of the room.

"If you would like to go and remove your clothes," she said.

Remus stared at Peabody who showed no signs of moving. He longed to wipe that smile away. Briefly, he contemplated not co-operating but pushed that thought away. _Think of the bigger picture,_ he told himself. _This ends tonight._

Meredith took his arm and guided him to the screen, away from Peabody.

"I'm sorry, R J, I'm so very sorry," she whispered.

"Look, I'd rather it were you, Meredith, than…" He left the thought unsaid.

"Listen to me, RJ," Meredith said in a soft but urgent voice. "You keep your eyes on mine at all times. Do you understand? Look only at me. I'll be as quick as I can, I promise."

Dry-mouthed, he stripped. _Breathe, _he told himself. _You can get through this. This is the easy part._

He stepped back into the room and found himself staring straight at Peabody. Meredith stepped in between them.

"At me," she mouthed and Remus obeyed.

Meredith worked quickly and efficiently and Remus found strength in her calm determination. He did as she had instructed and kept his gaze on her face, blocking out Peabody who continued to sip his tea. The times when he couldn't see Meredith – when she was inspecting the silvered bite scar on his right shoulder, for example – he stared at the wall just above Peabody's head and concentrated on how many words he could make from "Healer Meredith Jane Johnson". He had just come up with "relished" when Meredith announced:

"Last one. I need to measure your bicep."

She ran the tape around his upper arm as he flexed the muscle then scribbled down the answer in her notes on her desk.

"There you go, RJ," she said, with a note of triumph in her voice. "All done. And you should be home in time for tea."

Dimly aware that the smile had slid from Peabody's face, Remus looked at her in disbelief, then in hope. She had outwitted Peabody. Clever, clever Meredith! She had finished the tests in record time. There would be no cause for complaint from Peabody: she had done what he had asked her to do. Maybe he wouldn't have to face the cage tonight after all. He turned and checked the clock by the door. She was right, he could make it back home in time for moonrise. _The Ministry will have to act against Peabody and Christie on the written files alone, _he thought,_ or else Kingsley will have to rely on the evidence of someone else-_

An exclamation from Peabody interrupted his thoughts.

"Healer Johnson, I do apologise," he said without a trace of sincerity. "Forgive me, I am just so clumsy."

Both Meredith and Remus turned to see Peabody's cup of tea overturned. The notes were awash.

"No!" Meredith cried with frustration and reached for her wand but Peabody was quicker.

"_Accio!" _he said, pointing his wand at the papers. Instantly, they flew into his hands.

"_Accrio_ not _Accio!" _Meredith snapped, snatching the notes away.

Furiously, she cast the drying spell but the damage had been done. Peabody's fingers had smudged the quill ink so that the information was mostly illegible.

Remus let out a silent sigh. It had been foolish of him to think that he would be able to avoid the inevitable. He looked at Meredith with fury in her face and at Peabody, dabbing ineffectually at the remaining liquid on the desk, his smile firmly back in place. _Padfoot's right, _he thought suddenly. _Time to accept this is happening…time to go on the offensive_.

"An unfortunate accident, Mr Peabody," he said, his eyes showing that he thought it was anything but. "No doubt Healer Johnson will have to start again."

"Some of it's fine," Meredith insisted, grabbing fresh paper and frantically scrawling down the figures she could decipher. "I'll still have you out of here in time-"

Remus reached over and took hold of her quill hand.

"Take your time, Healer Johnson," he said quietly. "There's no rush."

"But, RJ –"

"I'm sure if I need to, I can transform here. Isn't that right, Mr Peabody?"

Peabody's smile split open so that Remus could see the neat, even teeth within. _He knows I know that this is all a charade so that he can put me back in that cage,_ Remus thought. _We're just going to play this out for Meredith's sake._

"I'm positive we could arrange something for you, Professor," he said, watching Remus.

Meredith was looking from one to the other, understanding that something was going on but not certain what.

"Are you sure about this, RJ?" she said in an undertone.

He looked at her and then back at Peabody.

"Absolutely," he said.

Once the second set of tests was completed and he had dressed himself, Remus did not need to check the time to know that it was now impossible for him to make it back home safely to transform. He could tell by Meredith's resigned air and the victory in Peabody's face.

"What now?" Remus asked tersely.

Peabody stood up and moved to the door.

"If you care to join me, Professor…I believe you know the way."

"Perhaps I'd better come too," Meredith interjected.

Remus started. This was something he hadn't considered. He looked at Peabody who simply shrugged.

"Oh, I'm afraid, Healer Johnson, it's all a bit Ministry top secret around here. Ministry officials and their guests only. I'd hate to have to Oblivate you in the morning."

The threat was subtle and overt at the same time. Remus did not hesitate.

"It's OK, Healer Johnson," he said. "You can go home. I'll be fine."

And before she could argue further, he walked briskly out of the room.


	16. Chapter 16 Darkest Hour

Chapter Sixteen: DARKEST HOUR

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

Werewolves do not enter confined spaces eagerly. It was the main reason the route from the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack had been designed to be as awkward and restricted as possible; so that there would be no unfortunate episodes of escape. Only with the encouragement of Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail had Remus been able to persuade his other self to go down the narrow, earthy path lined with tree roots.

Now as he walked along the Ministry corridor, Remus felt the walls rising round him as he never had before. The wolf within was close and it did not want to be here. He half-hoped that his quick stride would leave Peabody behind but he could hear the Ministry official's soft footfall at his shoulder keeping pace with him.

At the end of the corridor stood a door he remembered well. Not even hesitating, he opened it and stepped inside.

The first thing he saw was Christie, clasping his customary clipboard to his thin body. The second thing he saw was the cage.

Gleaming, sterile, terrifying.

He felt something deep inside him try to bolt: there was nothing wrong with the wolf's memory

"I see Professor Lupin is able to join us," Christie smiled.

"Indeed, I've offered the Professor sanctuary for tonight," Peabody nodded genially, closing the door behind him.

_Sanctuary!_ Remus almost snorted.

"Enough of this, gentlemen," he said firmly. "There's no one else around. No need to pretend anymore."

Peabody and Christie exchanged glances and Remus bit his tongue, wondering if he'd spoken out too strongly.

_Remember that you don't know anything about what they do, you don't know anything about all the others, all the experiments…and they don't know that it's going to stop. Just act as you would anyway if this was happening a few months ago…before the Order, before Sirius..._

Remus nodded his head towards the cage.

"What is this about?" he asked, allowing a note of trepidation into his voice.

Peabody spoke.

"Well, if you recall the last time we had the pleasure of your company for a full moon, Professor, we had some questions regarding the efficacy of the Wolfsbane potion."

"I remember," Remus said stonily.

Peabody smiled.

"We have some more points we'd like answered," he said simply.

Remus stared at him coldly.

"And what makes you think I'm going to set foot in there? I've taken the potion. I can transform quite happily out here."

Christie cleared his throat gently.

"Have you looked closely at the cage?"

Something in his tone was unsettling. Remus shot him a glance and then did as he suggested and looked properly at the enclosure.

In the far corner, there was a small blanket. And poking out of the top of it was a row of brown curls.

With an inarticulate noise, Remus dived into the cage, not noticing Christie moving smartly to fasten the door behind him. He raced across to the other side, knelt down and pulled the blanket back.

"No…" he whispered. Thomas Draper lay there, sleeping.

Remus was perfectly motionless as emotion worked its way through his body. Then he let the anger rip from him as he hurtled towards Peabody and Christie. Even though there were bars between them, the pair backed away from the fury in front of them.

"This is a child! An innocent child!" Remus roared. "Take him out of here now!"

"Professor-" Christie began.

"Now, Peabody! Do what you want to me, but you take this boy back to his mother!" He made a snarling grab through the bars which both Peabody and Christie neatly sidestepped. "His name is Thomas Draper and his mother is going out of her mind!"

"Professor Lupin-" Christie tried again but Peabody laid a hand on his arm as if to silence him.

"Get him back home – now!" Remus bellowed, hurling his body against the bars in frustration, cursing the pair of them vehemently. When the wolf was this near, he sometimes found it difficult to control strong emotion: tonight, he wasn't even going to try.

Peabody and Christie were silent now, watching as Remus's rage consumed him. Eventually, his anger died down and he sank, panting, to his knees, staring up at them.

"Please," he implored softly. "For pity's sake…take him away from here…"

Useless to rant, pointless to plead, he realised bitterly looking up at Peabody and Christie's serene faces.

Peabody squatted down awkwardly.

"Now, Professor, we'd never let an innocent come to harm, any more than you would. Please don't worry yourself."

Remus shot Thomas a quick glance. Despite the uproar that had been going on around him, the boy was still sleeping peacefully.

"Somnola potion," Christie said. "He'll be out till morning."

_That saves one awkward conversation, _Remus thought. _Thomas, it's me, Professor Lupin. Close your eyes because I'm going to do _the_ most fantastic trick…_

He stood up and returned to Thomas's side, pulling the blanket back up round the child's shoulders.

"What's he doing here?"

"Young, isn't he?" Peabody commented, ignoring Remus's question. "About the age you were when you were bitten?"

Remus said nothing although Peabody was right. Unwillingly, he was pulled back to that night…_running, running as fast as he could, running though he felt his legs were made of jelly. And knowing as he ran that there was no escape. He'd seen the look in the wolf's eyes. He would never get away. And as soon as he'd thought it, the wolf had pounced, knocking him flat to the ground, its weight pinning him down, his face pressed into a mulch of dead leaves. The wolf's breath was hot on the back of his neck and he closed his eyes, thinking 'I love you, Mum, I love you, Dad," and then – agony! The white-hot teeth tore down into his shoulder and buried themselves there…_

He forced himself back to reality in time to hear Peabody say:

"There was some opposition within the Ministry, you know, to supplying werewolves with the Wolfsbane potion, even at a nominal price."

Remus frowned at this non-sequitur then realised that these two never said anything without reason and made himself concentrate.

"I was one of those who thought it was a good idea, I hasten to add," Peabody said reassuringly, "But I think Mr Christie was one of those who voted against."

"Yes," Christie nodded. "I was a little concerned that werewolves would rely on the potion – become complacent, if you will. After all, it would only take a slight slip in the preparation of the potion for it to become completely ineffective. And then where would we be?"

It took a second for Christie's words to register and then the world stopped for Remus. Horror snaked through every vein of his body and he stared in utter dread at the pair. His potion, his sanity-saving potion, that he'd drunk down like a good little werewolf…were they saying they had tampered with it?

His eyes fell on Thomas and he almost choked with fright. A human boy: to a werewolf with no control, fair game. He scrabbled gracelessly backwards, trying to put distance between himself and the child, futile gesture though that would be in the cage.

Where was Kingsley? He looked around the room wildly. Why wasn't the Ministry stepping in to stop this? Even if he stopped short of murdering Thomas, even if he managed to stop at biting him, at dooming him to the half-life he himself led, he knew he would never survive. If they caught him and locked him up, he would go mad. If they didn't get to him in time, he would kill himself.

He tried to articulate the thoughts and images blazing their way through his mind, to plead for Thomas's life with an eloquence that would save him – save them both, to make Peabody and Christie stop but all that emerged from his throat was a long, extended note that grew more and more feral in nature.

The change! As the pull of the moon began, he fought as hard as he had ever done, willing himself to stay human, clutching himself around the middle, trying to hold on to his form.

It was in vain, of course. Ligaments were busy rewrapping themselves around muscles put to new use; bones were cracking, dislocating, lengthening and slashing through his clothes; fur tore through his skin, rippling over his new body, coating it from tip to tail in grey hair.

Stepping free from his tattered robes, he let out a howl of pure anguish. Then he collapsed on his side on the floor of the cage and gave great, sobbing yelps – the closest the wolf would ever get to crying. He still had his mind. It had all been a bluff.

He lay there letting the relief flood through him, letting the fear dissipate and realised suddenly that Kingsley was not coming. There was to be no rescue party. There was no way that the Internal Affairs team could have known that his potion had not been altered and they would not have stood by and watched as he harmed another. He was on his own.

Peabody gave a polite little cough and Remus raised his head to glare at him. Peabody looked unrepentant. Beside him, Christie was scribbling away furiously on his clipboard.

Remus indulged himself in dark thoughts of what he would like to do to the pair for the moment they had just put him through then realised that Peabody was addressing him.

"I said, Professor, that I was glad to see you make it through the transformation successfully." There was a hint of reproach that he had had to repeat himself.

"We are both delighted to have you here, Professor," Christie echoed.

_I bet you are,_ Remus thought viciously, looking at the undisguised glee in Christie's face and the wide smile on Peabody's. _Whatever you've been planning, you can't wait to get on with it. _

"After your admirable conduct the last time we met, Mr Christie and I couldn't resist introducing some company once again."

Remus's senses were on high alert. Where would the first attack come from? And then he noticed another addition to the cage which he had overlooked in his concern about Thomas. A two foot square hole had been cut into one of the sides. A piece of wood was latched over the entrance into the cage and behind it a short, wooden tunnel disappeared into the wall, through into the next room.

As Remus puzzled over its meaning, he heard a scrabbling of paws in the tunnel. _Rats? _ He thought, bewildered. _No, heavier than that, a large dog like Padfoot…_ He felt a sudden chill: had they caught Sirius? Was he somehow caught up in this?

"A fellow guest of the Ministry," Peabody said cryptically. "Mr Christie, would you do the honours?"

Christie moved to the wooden door and pulled up the latch. A large red wolf bundled into the cage and blinked at the bright light. As it struggled to orientate itself, Remus's blood froze. _The shape of the snout…the tufted tail…not wolf…werewolf…_

And in a split second, Remus understood Christie's words, Thomas's presence, Peabody's plans. It was not his potion that had been altered, it was this werewolf's. As it struggled to adjust to its new surroundings, he glimpsed its eyes, fierce, golden, and murderous. Any moment now, it would catch the scent of human prey and it would launch itself. And to protect Thomas, Remus would have to fight it. That was what Peabody and Christie wanted. They'd seen the resistance level of the potion when it was only himself in danger: now they wanted to see how the potion would hold up in a struggle for life and death when it was another's safety was at stake.

But Remus knew with certainty something they didn't. He would fight and he would lose. Because however much he wanted to save Thomas, he was a man inside a wolf's body fighting without the killer instinct his opponent possessed. Fighting even though he didn't want to. _This is some poor soul who's a pawn in this, just as I am._ And yet he had to try…even die trying.

_No time for any more thought, _he told himself savagely. _Get ready. Here it comes._

The werewolf had seen him. It dropped into a low crouch, unsure exactly what to make of Remus. Then its nostrils flared and it pounced on Remus's abandoned clothing, mauling it as the smell of things human overwhelmed it. As it worried the robes, Remus saw Christie out of the corner of his eye edging closer and closer until he was level with the werewolf.

Without warning, the creature shot forward and threw itself at the bars, jaws snapping. Christie dropped his clipboard and fell backwards in an undignified heap. Under other circumstances, Remus would have found the sight funny. As it was, he stood waiting, waiting for the terrible moment when the werewolf would turn round. He could hear Sirius saying "I think you're the bravest man I know" and he bared his teeth mirthlessly. All the bravery in the world wouldn't save him tonight.

As Christie moved further away, the werewolf lost interest and turned its attention back to the other wolf in the cage; the strange being that looked wolf but smelt similar to whatever delicious being had inhabited the clothes it had shredded. And then its ears went back, its eyes went wide and Remus knew the time had come.

Dropping into a defensive posture in front of Thomas, he let out a threatening growl and readied himself. The other wolf responded with a snarl, its eyes flitting between Remus and its quarry. Then it sprang.

Remus met it in the air, his jaws snapping, seeking purchase. The two went over in a bundle of fur and claws, slashing at each other, fighting for superiority.

Remus forced the battle away from Thomas to somewhere near the door of the cage. The werewolf was faster but Remus had more bulk and he used it to slam his attacker into the bars. Temporarily winded, the werewolf dropped back and Remus glimpsed Christie, clipboard back in his hand, mouth open. _Enjoying the show,_ Remus wondered fiercely, and then had no more time to think because the werewolf was upon him once more.

The werewolf's teeth sliced savagely into his left shoulder and he felt pain burning through him as blood matted his fur. His left front paw seemed slow to respond to his command and he desperately tried to make his body do his bidding. He pushed forward in a forlorn attempt to drive his attacker back but now razor-sharp teeth buried themselves deep in his haunch. Remus pulled himself free, feeling his flesh rip.

Suddenly he was knocked over on his side as the werewolf clawed his cheek and muzzle to the bone and snapped at his throat. He twisted his head away and the teeth grazed his neck. With an effort, he slipped sideways and bundled his attacker over, sending him skittling into the bars at the side of the cage.

Hell-bent on finishing off this fight and finding its prey, the werewolf let out an enormous snarl and launched itself forward. It hammered Remus to the floor, dazing him. Its claws raked open his side and as the werewolf bounded over his body, Remus rolled away in agony, horribly aware that there was nothing between Thomas and the werewolf and nothing he could do about it.

And then everything seemed to happen at once. There was a flurry of activity behind him in the room, he heard _"Leviosa"_ and _"Stupefy" _simultaneously, there were shouts and cries and then he knew no more.


	17. Chapter 17 Resolution

Chapter Seventeen: Resolution

Disclaimer: these wonderful characters belong to JK: I just borrowed them for a bit.

Opening bleary eyes, he rolled over in the bed, stared up at the high ceiling and recognised his bedroom at Grimmauld Place. He ran his tongue gingerly round his mouth. Judging by the size of his canines, he was no longer wolf.

He looked down at his undeniably human form, clad in a pair of purple and green pyjamas he knew he did not possess, and then over at the chair by the foot of the bed: a dishevelled Sirius was slumped in it, dozing.

On the bedside table to his left, sat a large bar of Honeyduke's Finest Chocolate and a glass of water. Hunger and thirst demanded satisfaction. He made to sit up and let out an involuntary groan: his side and shoulder ached abominably.

The noise was enough to wake Sirius who grinned.

"Welcome back."

Remus smiled.

"Help me with these, would you, Padfoot?" he asked hoarsely, trying ineffectually to plump up his pillows as support.

"Let me," Sirius said. "You're supposed to lie still and get better."

"Bet you behaved for Madam Pomfrey," he added as he reached behind him and pulled the pillows upright.

"Didn't dare not," Remus replied, reaching for the glass and draining it in one go. He picked up the chocolate, unwrapped it and crammed a large piece into his mouth. It tasted sublime. Closing his eyes, he laid back against the pillows letting it melt against his teeth. He could feel the chocolate working its magic, its comforting influence warming his body.

He opened his eyes again to see Sirius, perched on the edge of his bed, watching him.

"Better?"

"Better," he nodded. He frowned. "Er, Padfoot…the pyjamas?"

"Yours are in the wash." Sirius didn't mention that they were soaked with blood. "These are Arthur's."

Remus looked alarmed.

"Molly didn't-?"

"No, no," Sirius said reassuringly. He waited a beat and then said "It was Tonks."

Remus froze.

Sirius guffawed.

"She said to say that. She's right, it was funny." He sighed. "It's alright. I put you to bed."

Relief flooded Remus's face and he missed the way Sirius's expression suddenly tightened.

_2am. Kingsley standing in the hall with a covered stretcher._

"_He's alive," Kingsley said quickly and he noticed at once that he did not say Remus was OK._

"_Upstairs. Quietly."_

_Remus's bedroom. Pulling the covers back. Standing there, softly cursing._

"_We stopped the blood."_

"_Yes."_

"_We closed up the wounds."_

"_Right."_

"_And werewolves heal very quickly."_

"_I know." _

_Silence._

"_How bad was it?" _

"_As bad as you could imagine."_

_Silence._

"_When he wakes up, he's going to ask about a boy called Thomas. Tell him he's unharmed and back with his family."_

_Eyebrows raised._

"_Peabody and Christie gave him a little incentive to get in the cage."_

_Exhaling slowly._

_Kingsley gone._

_Sitting, watching, listening to the shallow breathing. Witnessing the change back for the first time in many a year. Seeing wounds reopen. Cleaning and closing the injuries; dressing him; putting him to bed; wounds opening again; repeating the process._

_And then he had waited._

Remus shifted uncomfortably in the bed, trying to ease the ache in his bones.

"How long?" he asked.

"Two days," Sirius said shortly.

Remus's eyes widened. _It had been two days since the full moon? Since the cage and the werewolf and-_

"Thomas!" he cried, sitting up despite Sirius's exasperated expression and the protests of his healing body.

"He's safe," Sirius reassured him. "Kingsley said he's back home and he's perfectly safe."

Remus fell back against the pillows, digesting the welcome news.

"What have I missed?"

"Not much. Fred and George have had a stock of Extendable Ears confiscated. It has now been four weeks since I've set foot outside this hellhole. As for big news – well, that'd be you. Though we've kept it from the kids: they just think it was a rough full moon for you. Which isn't really a lie, is it?"

He leaned forward.

"Before anything else, Moony, tell me what happened. I've been waiting at your bedside for two days and I only know bits and pieces. My imagination's been working overtime. Let's have the story in order."

Remus opened his mouth and closed it again. He guessed he owed Sirius that much.

He started with the medical exam which seemed a lifetime ago; how Meredith had tried to protect him; how he had realised no one was going to be able to help him; how he had determined to go through with it.

"I think I like the sound of Meredith," Sirius said approvingly.

"She's a very special person," Remus nodded. "She helped me find some courage that night."

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Sirius and Remus said in unison and Kingsley appeared.

"You're awake," he smiled, pulling a chair up to the other side of the bed.

"Remus is just filling in a few details," Sirius said, flashing a look at Kingsley that dared him to interrupt.

Something stirred at the back of Remus's mind but he glanced at Sirius's impatient face and moved on to Christie and the cage and the discovery of Thomas Draper.

"I can't believe they used that boy," Kingsley commented and then broke off as Remus unexpectedly lunged at him. Sirius was quickest to react, wrapping his arms round Remus and holding him back.

"How could you!" Remus was nearly incoherent with anger. "You stood by! You heard what they said!"

Kingsley looked at him in complete bewilderment.

"Moony, calm down!" Sirius barked. "What are you talking about?"

"He- he-" Remus shook himself and the tension started to leave his body. Sirius relaxed his grip.

"Peabody and Christie," Remus spat. "They made me think that they'd altered my Wolfsbane potion. That I was going to transform and wake up afterwards to find I was a murderer or as good as. Wherever you were, however you were listening, didn't you hear them say that?"

"Of course." Kingsley's bemused expression did not alter.

Sirius looked horrified.

"Then why didn't you do something!" Remus asked fiercely.

"I'm interested in the answer to this one," Sirius said with soft menace.

"But…" Kingsley looked from Remus to Sirius and back again. "You knew you were safe. I mean we did consider the fact that Peabody and Christie might do something to your potion to change it – although I have to say I didn't think they would negate its effect; my thoughts were more along the lines of adding something to it to make your memories hazy…so that whatever they did to you, you'd forget the worst of it and the following month, you'd let them do it to you again."

"Kingsley…" The name was spoken by Sirius with quiet threat.

"So just in case we intercepted your potion from the Ministry. We organised a proper batch to be delivered to you. But you knew," he insisted.

It was Remus's turn to look blank.

"What makes you think I knew?" he frowned.

"He brewed it for you," Kingsley explained earnestly. "He said he'd tell you all about it."

Remus and Sirius looked at each other.

"Who did?" Remus asked, knowing and not wanting to hear the answer.

"Severus, of course."

There was a silence. Remus glanced up at Sirius and saw the mixture of disbelief and rage fill his eyes.

"Padfoot," he said warningly, laying a hand on his friend's arm.

"Of all the-" Sirius choked on his anger.

"Sirius!" Remus tightened his grip and made his friend look at him. "It's alright. It's over now."

"I don't understand why Severus didn't tell you," Kingsley said, frowning.

"I'll tell you why-"

"It must have slipped his mind," Remus interrupted, staring at Sirius.

"But you had to transform…" Sirius said, staring back at him equally intensely, "and you didn't know…"

"No," said Remus evenly, watching him. "I didn't."

Sirius's mouth set in a hard line. It would wait.

"Alright. They locked you in a cage with this boy. They made you think that you were going to turn into a mindless beast and murder a child. What happened next?"

Remus said nothing for a moment then reached over and broke off a small piece of chocolate and ate it. He looked at Kingsley.

"Who was he?" he asked.

"Richard Walters. Skinny, red-headed nineteen-year-old."

"Moony…"

"I changed. Then they introduced me to Richard Walters who had actually had the misfortune to transform into a mindless beast and who was driven by instinct to attack Thomas. We fought. I came off worst. Then I woke up here."

Sirius stared, open-mouthed. He was busy reading between the lines: Remus's utter desperation; the brutality of an attack that had left his body so damaged; the fact that Peabody and Christie had orchestrated this and stood looking on while his friend fought for his life and that of Thomas Draper.

"Why didn't you stop the fight?" he demanded angrily of Kingsley.

"You have to understand that Internal Affairs wanted to make the best case possible against Peabody and Christie," Kingsley explained. "They would only step in when life was threatened."

"You mean when Remus was about to die."

"No. Kingsley means when Thomas was about to die."

"Remus-" Kingsley started apologetically.

"It's fine, Kingsley. I know how the Ministry works. Just tell me what I don't know."

"After Richard launched his final attack and Thomas was left undefended, we went in. We Stunned Richard and we moved Thomas out of harm's way although Peabody was adamant later that he had placed wards on the boy to protect him from a transformed werewolf. One of the team recognised Thomas from his mother's report earlier in the day so we were able to take him back home."

"What did you tell Elinor Draper?" Remus was curious.

"That we'd found him curled up, asleep." Kingsley shrugged. "It was true."

"How was Richard?" Remus dropped his gaze. "Did I- did I hurt him at all?"

"We took Richard away and kept him unconscious for the night. Then we let him wake up in a bed with very hazy memories. When we interviewed him we found that Peabody and Christie had pulled a similar trick with the medical exam and kept him at the Ministry to transform. When we checked, it seems he was...encouraged to go into the tunnel by virtue of the fact that it had been heavily impregnated with the smell of prey."

"That would be human prey," Sirius glared at Kingsley, angry even if Remus wasn't that the Ministry had been happy to let the fight start.

Kingsley nodded.

"Richard didn't remember the fight. And the worst you seemed to have inflicted, Remus, was badly bruised ribs. His injuries vanished almost immediately."

"What about Christie and Peasbody?" This from Sirius. "Tell me you've dealt with them."

"They're suspended pending further investigation," Kingsley said. "It's in the hands of Internal Affairs but they'll probably go to trial and then I hope on to Azkaban."

"Azkaban's too good for them," Sirius muttered darkly. "Take it from one who's been there."

"You won't have to testify," Kingsley said to Remus. "The Ministry has enough to act."

He stood up.

"I've got to get back to the Ministry."

"Thank you, Kingsley, for everything," Remus said sincerely.

The Auror flashed him a grin and left.

The second the door had shut behind him, Sirius said one word:

"Snivellus."

"Leave it, Padfoot."

"Don't let him off the hook, Moony, he knew exactly what he was doing not telling you about switching the potion!"

"Sirius, I grant you that Snape can be petty, spiteful, vicious – all the things that we disliked about him at Hogwarts. But even if he did do this deliberately – and there's nothing to say that he did - I'm not going to challenge him on this."

"Because of him, you went through one of the worst moments of your life."

"Yes. And because of him, I drank true Wolfsbane potion. Not just last full moon but all my time at Hogwarts. He didn't have to brew it, Sirius. But he did."

"It doesn't mean you owe him anything!"

"I owed him my mind every time I changed. For that, I can put up with a lot of pettiness and snide remarks and yes, I can ignore this lack of communication." He fixed his gaze directly on Sirius. "More importantly, we've just got the Order back together. We cannot afford to fight internally. We need to focus on the real enemy." He paused for a moment, considering and then said firmly "You are not to say anything about this to him, Sirius. Promise me."

Sirius was silent.

"Promise me."

"I promise," he said finally. "I'll solemnly swear. But privately I will continue to think he is a slimy git and hope that one day he will get his comeuppance."

Remus's lips twitched.

"I suppose that's about as good as I'm going to get."

Satisfied, he leant back and closed his eyes, frowning as the dull pain washed over him.

"I thought we'd lost you."

Remus opened his eyes again. Sirius had stood up and was looking out of the window. The words had been little more than whisper.

"I thought _I'd_ lost you," he clarified, still studying the view.

"Padfoot-"

"Let me finish. When Kingsley brought you back and you were in such a mess, I thought this is it. This is when my best and oldest friend dies. And I just have to watch and there's nothing I can do."

He turned back to Remus.

"You have no idea how wretched that feels."

They looked at each other in silence for a moment. Then Remus said:

"I thanked Kingsley but I didn't thank you, Padfoot. If you hadn't been…well, if you hadn't been you, there wouldn't have been any Internal Affairs investigation or rescue party. I probably wouldn't have survived the other night."

"Don't you put me through that again. Or I'm heading back to Azkaban."

Remus chuckled and then looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

"You don't know how lonely you are until…"

He looked over at Sirius.

"It's good to have you back. I don't want you disappearing either."

Sirius smiled.

"The last two Marauders. We owe it to each other and posterity to make sure we survive."

"If only to catalogue all the mischief managed."

Remus suddenly let out a huge yawn.

"Sleep, Moony. Best thing for you. When you wake up, I'll get you a bowl of Molly's best broth."

"'Long as you don't cook it," Remus said sleepily, snuggling down. "What about you?"

Sirius settled down in the chair at the bottom of the bed.

"I'll be right here," he said softly but Remus was already asleep.

_Epilogue_

He was waiting for her as she came off shift.

"RJ!" she shrieked and threw her arms round him in delight.

"Hello, Meredith," he smiled and pushed the small bunch of freesias into her hand.

"I'm so glad you're OK," she beamed. "Oh, I tried so hard to find out if you were alright. I didn't want to go home that night at all and I didn't sleep a wink. And that's not because of my husband's snoring. The next day I was pestering and pestering the Ministry to make sure you were safe and well. All they'd tell me is that you were no longer on the premises."

"I wanted to thank you, Meredith, for everything you did and everything you tried to do."

"RJ, it was nothing. I just don't like to see anyone being picked on. Especially when they can't very well fight back. What happened that night?"

"I changed," Remus said evenly. "The next morning I changed back."

Meredith looked at him searchingly but he kept his expression blank, She nodded to herself.

"OK, RJ, you don't have to tell me. I'm just pleased you're safe."

"Am I allowed to buy you a cup of tea? Or is that some sort of Ministry patient/healer conflict of interest?"

Meredith grinned and linked her arm through his.

"Even if it is, I don't care. Lead on, RJ."

_Elsewhere…_

"Thank you for coming to see me. A friend of mine at the Ministry told me about your case."

Christie shuffled a little in his seat and said nothing. The elegant surroundings seemed to intimidate him.

"I'm sure your time is very precious," Peabody said, leaning forward. "How can we help?"

His reward for his directness was an appreciative smile.

"Did you bring some examples of your work with you?"

Christie handed over a handful of files for inspection. The notes were made in his neat handwriting.

_Milligan, PR – Third session - Subject transformed. Circle of fire set as transformation took place. Displays panic. Subject remained within circle for seven minutes before attempting to leap clear. Subject suffered 10 burns to legs and flanks. NB explore relationship between concentration of Wolfsbane potion and time spent in the circle…_

_Gardner, SK – Second session - Subject transformed. Control substituted for Wolfsbane potion. Displays aggression. Size of cage reduced by half. Self-mutilation ensued. NB explore relationship between size of surroundings and potential for self-harm…_

_Lupin, RJ – First session – Subject transformed. Displays composure and self-control. NB explore relationship between self-control and provocation to fight…_

The last file was lingered over.

"Your…research…is very thorough."

"Thank you," Peabody inclined his head to acknowledge the compliment. "Our aim has always been to build a body of work that would be seen as authoritative on the traits and limits of werewolves."

"You have more files?"

"Many more. My colleague, Mr Christie, made duplicates of every record and every piece of information held on the Ministry database. Our colleagues in Internal Affairs have yet to discover this."

There was a short pause.

"I think your efforts will meet with a great deal of interest from some of my acquaintances."

Peabody looked over at Christie and then said baldly:

"And in exchange?"

"I have some small influence at the Ministry. It is possible that I can exert this to have the charges against you reduced…maybe even dropped. It is possible too that I might be able to make some introductions so that your work could continue."

Peabody smiled for the first time.

"In which case, my lord, we would be happy to work with you."

Lucius returned the smile.

"Let me see what I can do."

A/N: I started this story in 2003 before my son was even thought of. I am so happy to have finally finished it!

I wanted to thank everyone who has been kind enough to leave me reviews. You have been so encouraging. It really helped me work through the writer's block I had suffered (for about 3 years!) around chapter 9 when the Order is reformed. Because the story is primarily Remus and Sirius and their friendship, I was very torn once other members of the Order appeared and the Weasleys moved in. I wanted to write other little scenes but I knew they would dilute my primary focus. I ended up writing the scenes into another story!

Speaking of which and in a shameless act of self-promotion, if you have enjoyed "Catching Up", you may like to read my other HP stories. Unsurprisingly, they feature Remus and Sirius because they are my favourite characters and I like to write them.

In chronological order, they are:

"Truth and Consequences" – the story of the Prank and Snape's revenge. My first ever piece of HP fan fic.

"Black Tie" – pure fluff! Post-Hogwarts, the Marauders at an Evans family party.

"…Longest" – a short, bleak little piece about Peter's betrayal.

"Splinters" – a one-shot between Sirius and Remus set after the Pensieve scene in OotP.

"A Very Private Mourning" – Remus after Sirius's death.

"Understanding Remus" – Remus, his memories and the start of his relationship with Tonks.

Thank you for reading.


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